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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675561">Rebuilding: The Reconstruction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freespiritedone/pseuds/Freespiritedone'>Freespiritedone</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rebuilding [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adjusting, Learning to Trust Again, Life sucks sometimes, Lots of family dynamics, M/M, Sexual Dysfunction, aftermath of rape, kids are hard, learning to love again, nothing is ever easy, psych issues, relationships are hard, sometimes it doesnt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:07:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>109,572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freespiritedone/pseuds/Freespiritedone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey Milkovich is a work in progress.  Imagine how fun that is, for him and everyone else.</p><p> </p><p>This is the second part of Rebuilding.  It’s a very long, very slow burn.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rebuilding [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>558</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1. No Man’s Land</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It felt like ages since Mandy had a moment alone with Ian. </p><p> </p><p>They still saw each other at Sunday dinners, but it had been a long time since they had hung out, just the two of them.When he invited her to lunch on a day she could actually go, she jumped on it.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy arrived early at the restaurant, a swanky place full of young executive types she had never in a million years thought she would blend in with.She did though. She was exactly the type of person this place was designed for and that was weird as fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Ian walked in and after a brief moment looking around caught her eye and started weaving through the tables towards her.He looked amazing, dressed in a light blue tee, azure blue cardigan and navy trousers.Eyes turned to look at him and damn it, why did he have to be gay and in love with her brother?</p><p> </p><p>He walked right up to her, kissed her cheek and then took his seat. </p><p> </p><p>They chit chatted about banal things until they ordered, the air between them pleasant and open.It was nice to be able to hang out with him again. </p><p> </p><p>Once their drinks were delivered he asked, “You seeing anyone?” </p><p> </p><p>She was, sort of.Trent, the guy she had been making eyes at for months at the hotel Starbucks had finally talked to her.“I’m not sure yet.That guy from the Starbucks I told you about, he asked me out finally.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled and teased, “I thought you said he was gay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess my gaydar is defective.” She joked.There was some truth to it though.She had not known Ian was gay until he told her.She had not known Mickey was gay until his wedding when Ian drunkenly let it slip.</p><p> </p><p>Ian leaned forward, green eyes twinkling.“So where are you going?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just dinner.I have to go to work after.”She had deliberately set it up that way.She wanted a hard stop so she wouldn’t end up taking him home and banging him.</p><p> </p><p>“Smart.”Ian said, as his lemon garlic prawns over field greens was set before him.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy took a bite of her burger.She had made some very bad choices in the past.She didn’t want to repeat them.Since she wasn’t very good at setting boundaries with men, she set up literal limitations to prevent herself from doing something stupid.“Just trying not to fall back into old habits, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s great, Mandy.”Ian reached across the table and squeezed her arm.He knew what she was thinking and there was comfort in that.She also knew what he was going through.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?”She asked, wondering how miserable her idiot brother was making her best friend.Ian and Mickey lived together in Ian’s huge Upper East Side brownstone, but it was tense. </p><p> </p><p>Ian leaned back in his chair, looking tired.“Yeah, I guess so.”</p><p> </p><p>“How’s Mickey?”She asked, knowing the answer wouldn’t be good. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had spent five and a half years of a 15 year sentence in prison for attempted murder.Terry had been on the same cell block and their old man had not gotten over his rage at Mickey’s coming out.His retribution had been brutal, sending Mickey to the ICU four separate times.</p><p> </p><p>As a result, Mickey spent a lot of his incarceration recovering in the medical wing of the prison.The one lucky thing that happened to him there was his doctors took a shine to him.While in their care he earned his GED and eventually a bachelor’s degree in accounting.A lawyer Ian had hired appealed Mickey’s conviction and won.He was exonerated, his record was expunged and Mickey had taken the first bus to New York City where he got a job as a forensic accountant.That was a little less than a year ago.</p><p> </p><p>To the outside observer, Mickey’s story seemed to have a fairy tail ending, but to those living through it with him it was anything but. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay I guess. He barely speaks to me and only when Frannie’s around.”Ian sighed and pushed a beautifully cooked prawn across his plate with his fork.Frannie was Ian’s niece.She had been put in his custody a while back after the little girl was taken away from her mother by DCFS.The little girl liked Ian, but she adored Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had been staying at Ian’s house when the little girl moved in.Mandy had moved him there on the pretense of need when he had been recovering from a series of orthopedic surgeries.She had hoped to get them back together since she was convinced they still loved each other, but that had been an epic fail.The only reason Mickey was still there was because he felt obligated to stay for Frannie’s sake.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy ate a French fry.“That’s more than I get.I only see him on Sundays.He doesn’t even answer my texts lately.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian grimaced.“I hope he’s not ignoring Yev too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah.He FaceTimes that kid every night before bed.”She knew because she had asked Svetlana.That woman had worked hard to make sure her son had a father and after his release Mickey had stepped up.Mandy thought it was very brave of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you hosting Sunday dinner this weekend?”Ian asked, taking a bite of prawn.</p><p> </p><p>In Mandy’s opinion, rotating family dinners was one of Mickey’s shittier ideas.She didn’t want to have the family over to her apartment, but caved when Svetlana pointed out it was important Yevgeny understood most people didn’t live like he did.Mandy didn’t want her nephew to grow up thinking he was better than everyone else, living in a privileged little bubble where he could ignore the suffering of others. The kid was literally the spawn of poor white trash and a sex slave.He didn’t need to know that part of his history, but he did need to know how lucky he was...not that her current apartment was much of a lesson in privilege.Maybe they needed to take him back to the Southside sometimes, let him see how his parents grew up.“Yeah.I hope you’re in the mood for pizza and beer.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian raised an ironic eyebrow.“You’re not going to learn to cook?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck no.”Mandy did not cook.She didn’t want to learn how to cook either.Mickey had turned out to be the domestic one, not her.She ate at work for free, ate on Sundays for free and ordered in or ate out on her days off. “Iggy was thinking about it, but as of now the plan is pizza.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mickey will love that.”Ian rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.</p><p> </p><p>“He’ll just remind us how much better his is.”Mandy said mirroring the eye roll.Mickey had taken up cooking after he got out of prison and he was fucking good at it. </p><p> </p><p>“And he won’t be wrong.”Ian replied. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s pizza was divine.He made his own dough and the sauce was some sort of magic he concocted out of tomatoes and spices.The last time he made it he had talked about a YouTube video he had seen that made making his own mozzarella look easy enough to try.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure you’re doing okay?” Mandy asked, done talking about food.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s hard.He’s so close, but I have to leave him alone.” Ian shoved his plate away and tossed his napkin on top of it.He had eaten less than half of it.“To be honest, it’s fucking killing me.”</p><p> </p><p>Living together again had started off badly, Mickey too angry at Ian’s abandonment to consider the circumstances in which it happened.Then there was a period where it seemed like they were <em>maybe</em> trying to get back together, but that had collapsed.Terry had made absolutely certain Mickey would be too damaged to be able to resume a relationship.Mickey, strong little fucker that he was, was refusing to stay the burned out husk his father had tried to make him.He was seeing a shrink.He was going to group therapy.He was doing the work to rebuild, but no one really knew what the end result would be. </p><p> </p><p>It was so hard to watch him struggle, but at the same time it was sort of gratifying to watch Mickey defy all expectations and refuse to give up.She admired the hell out of him for trying.</p><p> </p><p>As hard as it was on Mickey, it was also nearly as hard on Ian, sitting on the sidelines, helplessly watching the man he loved struggle.Worrying for him she asked, “What does Dr. Brynner say?”</p><p> </p><p>“She says he’s at a crucial part of his recovery and I have to trust him to take care of himself.”Regular visits with his psychiatrist was part of how Ian maintained his bipolar disorder.He had been depressed at first when Mickey made it crystal clear he needed to be left alone and the only reason they still lived together was Frannie.It had taken a few weeks, but Ian had righted himself.Now he was trying to re-devote himself to the things that had kept him centered before Mickey had re-entered his life.</p><p> </p><p>“I wonder how long it takes to get over something like that.”Mandy wondered.She and Mickey had a lot in common where the source of their issues were concerned.Terry had had Mickey gang raped in prison, but before that, Terry had raped her himself.Mandy had not gone to counseling and still wondered if she should.She could see how much it helped Ian, but she could also see how hard it was on Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>Ian made a face and said, “Dr. Brynner says he’s in the depression stage and once he accepts it wasn’t his fault, then things will start getting better.”</p><p> </p><p>“She give you a timeline?”She asked, hoping it would be soon.</p><p> </p><p>“No, but she said he’s doing what he needs to do and it’ll take as long as it takes.I can either wait or I can’t.”Ian shrugged as if living with the person he loved most in the world, but who wanted nothing to do with him was no big deal.</p><p> </p><p>“Has Frannie noticed?” Every Sunday Mandy joined the other adults in pretending everything was fine for the sake of Yevgeny and Frannie, but Frannie lived with them.She saw them every day.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think so.”Ian said, “but we did have to talk about why I’m not home all the time anymore.Had to explain what a job is, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy studied him for a while before deciding he honestly believed what hw was saying.“That’s good at least.So, how is it getting back to your normal life?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian shrugged.“Is it normal?”</p><p> </p><p>No.It was anything but normal, but it was what he had chosen.He wanted to ride things out with Mickey this time, to prove he had the staying power to be worth another try.Mandy thought he wasn’t just proving it to Mickey.He was proving it to himself too.</p><p> </p><p>Bipolar had made Ian highly unreliable, but once he started taking his disorder seriously he became a lot more stable.Stable enough to build Claymore Studios with a guy he met at junior college.It was one of the fastest growing game companies in the US making Ian a very wealthy man at the tender age of 23. </p><p> </p><p>It had been a while since Claymore had had his full, undivided attention.While his partner Garry developed the revolutionary code behind the games Claymore produced, Ian was the visionary story teller, the face and the mouth piece for their company.Claymore was where he was foundational, important, needed.Being back at work was good for him.“You know what I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know.” Ian nodded.“I didn’t realize how much I dropped to be home with him.In a way it’s good, you know? It reminded me how much Claymore needs me.Svet did a great job, but it’s different when I’m there.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy could imagine.Svetlana was COO at Claymore and Ian’s right hand woman, but their leadership styles could not be more different.“She’s a task master, not a visionary.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian nodded.“It’s why we make a good team.”</p><p> </p><p>“I bet your friends are happy to see you again too.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s different with Frannie, but yeah.Every other weekend I have to find something to do with myself.”Ian agreed as the waiter came back and took their plates. He and Mickey had agreed to split the weekends with Frannie.One of them stayed with her and the other made himself scarce.It was not a fun living situation.</p><p> </p><p>Ian changed the subject.“So how’s Iggy doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s been formally diagnosed with dyslexia so the school hooked him up with a tutor and an occupational therapist.I didn’t think he would stick it out, but so far so good.He’s thinking about setting a date for his GED exam.”Iggy had joined them in New York at Christmas and had taken full advantage of the opportunity.He had a job as a mechanic and had gone back to school. He was making a new life for himself and she could not be prouder of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Your new job’s working out?”Ian asked.</p><p> </p><p>Since her college graduation in December she had been promoted to a full fledged Events Manager.She had received a huge raise and was working more now than she had been back when she had trying to juggle a full time job with full time school.It was insane, but she was loving it.</p><p> </p><p>She had more autonomy now to run parties, events and weddings in her own way.“Yeah.It’s going great.Our Valentine’s Day party was banging.I increased profits by 11 percent over last year.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s awesome!”Ian smiled at her, that big toothy grin he reserved for moments when he was really proud of someone.Then the smile turned into a smirk. “Any desire to host another party for me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Duh, of course.”She loved Ian’s parties.There was no budget.He never really gave her parameters or even ideas.He would just tell her what it was for and when he wanted it.The rest he left to her.“When and what’s the occasion?”</p><p> </p><p>“My birthday. Day of, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s Christmas gift to Mickey had been a trip to the Caribbean over Memorial Day weekend which also happened to be Ian’s birthday.It made her sad he had given up on it, but it also made sense.In an effort to gloss over the emotion she tried to stay all business.“Party at your house?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.If the weather holds up we can do the first ever pool party.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”That was a great idea.The pool was heated so even if the weather wasn’t the best, the pool could still play a role.She didn’t want to go the obvious mermaid route, but she’d come up with something.“Friends and family?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Same for Frannie’s birthday, but her friends not mine.No pool though.I’m not taking on that liability.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”Mandy had never done a kids party, but why not?She would quiz Frannie at the next family dinner to find out what she liked.No problem.There was another spring event Ian had had her plan last year.“Are you still going to do Spring Break at Claymore?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but HR is putting it together this year.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, okay.”Mandy could not hide the fact she was disappointed to hear it.That had been a huge party in Central Park which brought all of Claymore together for team building.They brought their families, played games and ate and drank way too much.It had been a blast.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d also like to do Mickey’s birthday, if he’ll let me, and Halloween, the Holiday party and New Years, too.”Ian started rattling off all the events he had on his calendar that would need party planning.“We’re shooting for San Diego ComiCon to announce a new game.I want to do a party for it here in New York.”</p><p> </p><p>“When is it?”She asked.Ian had gone every year since Claymore’s founding.She had helped him put together his booth that first year, but after that he had an in-house marketing department running the conferences.Mandy liked going to the cons but she had not enjoyed working them.There were too many other people telling her what she could and couldn’t do.</p><p> </p><p>“July 18<sup>th</sup> through the 21<sup>st</sup>.I’d like to throw the party on the 27<sup>th</sup> after the con.”Ian said.“Maybe at a restaurant or something fancy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”Mandy added the date to her list on her phone.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s all I’ve got for now.”Ian told her, accepting the check the waiter brought them and putting his credit card in the holder.</p><p> </p><p>As he handed it back to the waiter, Mandy surveyed the list he had given her and realized she was going to be a very busy girl between her regular job and all of Ian’s events.Her mind was churning with ideas, except for one event.“That’s plenty.What do you want to do for Frannie’s? Like, it’s a kid party, but how elaborate do you want it?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian shrugged.“The tuition at her daycare is just under six grand a month so I guess something those sort of people would expect.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you fucking serious?That’s 72 thousand a year!”It was a little less than Mandy made in a year.It was an insane amount of money to spend on school for a toddler.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s nuts, right?”Ian asked, with an ironic smile on his face.It was like he couldn’t believe it either, but he was the idiot paying for it.</p><p> </p><p>“Rich people.”Mandy rolled her eyes at him.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What’s in a Name?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey was sitting in his small office at Wolfe, Pratt and Stevens. He had his feet propped up on the desk and his forgotten keyboard sat in his lap.It was the end of the day and most of his coworkers had already left for the night. </p><p> </p><p>He was supposed to meet his siblings soon to celebrate the one year anniversary of his release from prison.He didn’t want to make a big deal of it, but it was free food and booze, so what the hell.</p><p> </p><p>One year ago today he had walked out of prison, straight onto a bus and left Chicago and almost everything he had ever known behind.Looking back on the past year it was insane how much had changed so he tried not to.</p><p> </p><p>Physically he felt better than he had in years.Just this week he had done away with the crutch.He was walking unaided and fuck was that a great feeling.He still had a knee brace and physical therapist once a week, but it seemed almost superfluous now.Together they had come up with a workout plan for him and combined with eating better, he was getting closer to his normal pre-prison weight.</p><p> </p><p>He had also resumed working out of the Wolfe, Pratt and Stevens’ offices full time.He was glad to be back, but also missed the autonomy of working from home.His office at Ian’s house was a lot nicer, the computer was faster, the snacks were better and he didn’t have to talk to anyone if he didn’t want to. </p><p> </p><p>His interactions with his coworkers could be pretty awkward sometimes.Mickey didn’t speak yuppie and they didn’t speak hood rat so things sometimes got lost in translation. </p><p> </p><p>Clive Pratt, the nepotism computer security guy, and his cronies went out of their way to make Mickey feel like he didn’t belong.Mickey wasn’t sure if it was the expunged criminal history with it’s scarred knuckles and vague remnants of removed tattoos or if it was the gayness and the implied wealth of being in Ian’s house that was the problem, but Clive hated him.The feeling was one hundred percent mutual, but since Clive was the son of one of the partners, Mickey had to hold his tongue.</p><p> </p><p>He did have a couple allies, like Austin and Kennedy who had worked directly with him, but most of the time he felt looked down on and defensive. </p><p> </p><p>At Dr. Mohammed’s suggestion Mickey had asked Tom, another of the partners and his direct supervisor, to mentor him. He and Tom met once a week for coffee and talked about what was going well, what still needed work and how to approach situations Mickey was uncomfortable in.When things got hard, Tom’s door was open and Mickey was learning to take advantage of it.</p><p> </p><p>With Tom’s encouragement, he had started studying for the CPA exam.The exam was fucking hard since it was basically the opposite of what made him good at his job which was finding loop holes.The CPA exam was about rules and following them.It was going to take him a while to feel confident enough to sit for it.That was okay though since he had to work as an accountant for five years before he could take the CFF (Certified in Financial Forensics) test he really needed to be taken seriously in his line of work. </p><p> </p><p>Besides, studying helped fill up the spaces between work, Frannie and sleep.Otherwise those spaces would be nothing but Ian.Fucking Ian.</p><p> </p><p>They were in the same house, but that was about it. </p><p> </p><p>They saw each other briefly in the morning because they had quickly discovered Frannie wasn’t going to let them get away without having breakfast together like they had been doing since she came to live with them.</p><p> </p><p>Ian took the dog, Scraggles, with him to work every day and Mickey dropped Frannie off at day care on his way to the office.Ian picked her up.Mickey made dinner and Frannie told them all about her day.Once she was in bed, they went their separate ways.Mickey FaceTimed his son Yevgeny.Ian did whatever he did before bed.</p><p> </p><p>Every other weekend Ian found a reason not to be home.He left notes so Mickey knew where he was and when to expect him back, but they never talked about it.</p><p> </p><p>All interaction between them was about and around Frannie.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey could tell Ian wasn’t happy, but there was fuck all he could do about it.He wasn't happy either. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Mandy watched her brother weave his way through the tables towards her.They were having dinner together to celebrate the first anniversary his release from prison and it was beautiful to see how much he had made of that freedom. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey was coming straight from work and by appearances he fit right in with the young, chic clientele of the restaurant she had chosen.</p><p> </p><p>He had gained some weight and the navy blue suit he was wearing was meant for a man who weighed less than Mickey did now. His ice blue shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, and his tie was loose.She would bet he couldn’t button the suit jacket and his pants were riding higher on his hips and tighter than she knew he liked.She could see the outline of his knee brace through the material as he walked, but there was no limp in his gait for the first time since prison.</p><p> </p><p>It felt like a metaphor, like things really were getting better in spite of how they seemed.</p><p> </p><p>His hair was cut close on the sides and longer on the top. The way he styled it reminded her of a young Elvis Presley.He looked good and she couldn’t help congratulating herself on how well she had set him up to succeed...at least in his work life.She’d pretty much fucked up his private life trying to force him into a situation he wasn’t ready for.</p><p> </p><p>She stood up and hugged him, squeezing him tight.He squeezed her back hard enough to lift her off her feet.He’d gotten his strength back.He let go and they sat down.Mickey looked around the room and asked, “Is Ian coming?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. I didn’t invite him.”Mandy said, wondering why he was asking.He had told her if she insisted on celebrating he wanted it to just be his siblings.She knew why.So did Ian, even if it had hurt when she told him they would be celebrating alone. </p><p> </p><p>Tonight she wanted Mickey to remember the support system he had and would always have regardless of what happened between him and Ian.Mickey had to know she would prioritize him first, something she hadn’t always done as well as she should have.Mickey was family.Ian was her best friend which put Ian in second place.Mickey needed to know that.“It’s just us Milkoviches.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or one Milkovich and two Alexandroviches.”Mickey grunted, getting the attention of the waiter. </p><p> </p><p>Mandy waited while he ordered a beer for himself and another for Iggy.She already had a glass of red wine. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s kinda weird, huh? Mandalia Iliana Alexandrovich.”She mused.The day after she got her letter, she had been the first person in line at the DMV to get her driver’s license and passport updated.She had shed her father’s name like a snake shedding dead skin.Feeling lighter than she ever had in her life, she had vowed to herself the second Terry was dead she would never think about him again. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, rolls right off the tongue.”Mickey snarked.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m still just Mandy to you.” Which was the point.It was why she hadn’t changed it to Nadege like her mother had wanted to call her.To the people she loved she was Mandy.To the clientele she was building, she was Mandy.But to Terry Milkovich?Half of her was hiding behind her new name hoping it would keep him from finding her.The other half wanted him to choke on it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> She understood why Mickey didn’t join them.  His son was a Milkovich.  it wasn’t as easy for him.  </span>Out loud she wondered, “Imagine how pissed he’ll be when he finds out two of his kids changed their name.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s face paled.“Rather not think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>She should not have brought up their dad.She knew better than that.Especially not today.</p><p> </p><p>As she was struggling for a way to change the subject that wouldn’t be too obvious, Iggy did it for her by choosing that moment to arrive.“Hey.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stood and clapped his older brother on the shoulder.“I ordered you a beer.” </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.”Iggy said, smiling as he took his seat and picked up the beer. “Can’t stay long.I take my test in a few days.Gotta study.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I gotta study, too.”Mickey agreed like he was glad to have an excuse to cut things off if it got too hard.  He probably was.</p><p> </p><p>“Weird I’m the only one not in school anymore.”Mandy muttered.Iggy was about to sit for his GED and Mickey was working on getting his CPA license.She was just running around planning parties and weddings.Speaking of parties, she asked Iggy, “Are you going to make it to Ian’s birthday?”</p><p> </p><p>“Planning to.”Iggy said, then he turned to Mickey and asked, “You gonna be there?”</p><p> </p><p>“I live there.No choice.”Mickey grunted.</p><p> </p><p>“All the Gallaghers coming in for it?”Iggy asked taking another chug from his beer.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes.“Most of ‘em, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy was going to change the subject when Iggy waded into the deep end by asking,“How’re you going to explain the separate bedrooms?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”Mickey groaned, face palming. “Hadn’t thought about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably should.”Iggy replied, watching Mickey.“They get all up in other people’s business.”</p><p> </p><p>“No fucking duh.”Mickey growled, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy felt weirdly ambivalent. On the one hand, anything that made life harder for Mickey upset her.On the other, she knew just like her brothers there was no way the Gallagher’s wouldn’t notice the weird vibe between them, especially if they were back to separate rooms.Worse, they would think Mickey was being an asshole.He really wasn’t, but they would think it none the less.</p><p> </p><p>She picked up her own menu even though she already knew what she wanted and tried to think of something else to talk about.There had to be another topic they could gnaw on for an hour or two.</p><p> </p><p>Iggy pulled out his wallet and passed his ID card to Mickey.“Got my new driver’s license today.Fucking weird seeing that name.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t have to do it, numb nuts.”Mickey snapped, glancing at it before tossing the card to Mandy. </p><p> </p><p>She looked at it.Ignacio Andrii Alexandrovich. Of course he had changed his first name from Igor.Of Terry’s children, only two of them had Ukrainian names and neither of them liked theirs.Mandy totally understood why Iggy hated Igor, like he was <em>Frankenstein’s</em> side kick.Throughout their childhood, calling him Igor had been the only way to get a real rise out of him.Mikhailo, she thought, was a good name with a sort of exotic quality to it.</p><p> </p><p>The Iggy on the card looked clean cut and handsome, like the saint who’s name he had appropriated.The old Igor had been an unkempt pothead loser with some pretty major self loathing holding him down.Ignacio still smoked more nights than he didn’t, but it lacked the desperate need for oblivion of the past.It was as if being out from other Terry’s thumb he just didn’t need the emotional crutch anymore. </p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe we’re here.”She wondered out loud as she passed the card back to Iggy.They were lightyears removed from their old lives and it felt surreal.Again.She wondered if it would ever really feel real. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s fucking bananas.”Iggy agreed, looking just as baffled as she felt.</p><p> </p><p>“Ian did it.”Mickey muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you say that?”Mandy asked.She agreed with him, but suspected her reasons were different than his.</p><p> </p><p>“I dunno.”Mickey shook his head, clearly unwilling to elaborate.He looked like he wished he had never spoken at all.</p><p> </p><p>“He believed in you.”Iggy said, looking at her first and then at Mickey.“Both of you.You’re his best friend and you’re gonna be his husband someday.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted and took a long pull from his beer.</p><p> </p><p>“He dragged me out of the gutter and reminded me what I did for Lip I could also do for myself.”Mandy mused, thinking about the trajectory of her life at that time.She had been a call girl with the beginnings of a drug habit.“I would be just like Aunt Roxy if he hadn’t come back into my life when he did.”</p><p> </p><p>The waiter came back for their orders, which Mandy thought was terrific timing because Mickey looked like he was thinking about calling it a night.</p><p> </p><p>Another round of drinks quickly followed.</p><p> </p><p>Iggy raised a glass.“Here’s to Mickey’s one year anniversary, the first of many.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cheers!”Mandy clanked her wine glass against Iggy’s beer glass.Mickey didn’t move.It made her heart hurt for him.She wanted to tell him it would get easier as the years passed, but instead elbowed his arm and shook her glass at him. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes and held up his glass so she could tap it with her wine glass. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe celebrating was a bad idea. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe she should have just let the anniversary fade into nothing, but he had accomplished so much in the year since his release and she needed him to know how special that was, how much it meant to their family.“I’m so fucking proud of you.You have no idea how proud I am to be your sister.”</p><p> </p><p>He blushed and ducked his head.“Bullshit.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m serious, ass wipe.”Mandy snapped, reverting back to the snark all of them were more comfortable with.</p><p> </p><p>Or that two out of three were more comfortable with because Iggy was heart warmingly earnest when he said, “I wouldn’t be sitting here without you, Mickey.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey arched a disbelieving eyebrow at his brother and nodded his head toward Mandy.</p><p> </p><p>Iggy shook his head.“Seriously, if you hadn’t pulled your shit together I wouldn’t have thought I could.No offense, sis, but...you know.”</p><p> </p><p>She did know.Their dad had created a huge divide between her and her brothers.She was a girl, the family princess.She had been held apart from her brothers, set up on a rickety pedestal that she was regularly knocked off of by their father’s misogyny. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s weird as fuck when you think about it.I only went to school because some pushy doctors made me.”Mickey muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“I only went because some pushy redhead refused to take no for an answer.”Mandy agreed.This wasn’t entirely true since they had really propped each other up most of the time, but Ian had never let her give up on herself.</p><p> </p><p>“I just figured if you guys could do it, maybe I could too.”Iggy shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“We can’t let him fuck this up.”Mickey growled.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy knew who Mickey was referring to and she wholeheartedly agreed, but their dad was not what she wanted to talk about.Tonight wasn’t about the past.It was about the future.</p><p> </p><p>“We won’t.”Iggy said, sprawling back into his chair in a posture Mandy remembered well from all those years he had been a lump on Terry’s couch.It was as if he thought filling more space would somehow protect him.It made her sad.Iggy polished off his second beer and said, “I hear he’s slipping.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure he is.”Mickey growled, body language the exact opposite of Iggy’s.His back was ramrod straight, sitting with his feet firmly on the floor, looking like he was poised to leap up and hot foot it.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what they’re saying back home.”Iggy shrugged, waving his empty beer glass at a passing waiter who nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>When the waiter came back with Iggy’s beer Mickey ordered a pitcher and Mandy gave in and started buying her wine by the bottle.She should have started there to begin with.They were going to get shit faced tonight and Mandy was grateful none of them were working the next day.</p><p> </p><p>When the waiter left Iggy leaned forward, elbows on the table and said, “I figure it’s just a matter of time before he bites off more than he can chew.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been saying that for almost a decade, Igs.”Mandy reminded him.All of them said it.None of them believed it.Terry was monolithic, immovable, immortal in more ways than she cared to think about.His memory would loom large in their lives long after he was gone, she was sure.</p><p> </p><p>“This time though, I think it’s legit.He’s getting old.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuckin’ hate him.”Mickey growled, pouring himself another beer from the pitcher that had just arrived. </p><p> </p><p>All of them were silent while the waiter opened Mandy’s wine bottle and made her go through the process of approving it.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s gonna get taken out, you watch.”Iggy tried again. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey hunched over his beer and the tension radiating off him was palpable. </p><p> </p><p>“Can’t happen soon enough.”Mandy said, feeling like she had to say something.</p><p> </p><p>“Dr. Mo has friends still back at the prison.They’re keeping an eye on him, checking for early release or parole.”Mickey told them.He sounded both scared and angry. </p><p> </p><p>His hand was shaking when he lifted his glass to his lips.</p><p> </p><p>It was time to change the subject.She glanced at Iggy, trying to come up with something else to talk about.Maybe she should tell them about Trent.They would razz the hell out of her, but it would be better than the thick, suffocating fear she could feel growing around them.</p><p> </p><p>Once again, Iggy saved the day.He started talking about one of his coworkers who was having some serious relationship drama.It lightened her mood and when she glanced over at Mickey, his posture had relaxed.</p><p> </p><p>Finally their food came and the subject changed to one of the weddings she was planning and the bridezilla insanity she was dealing with.It was horrendous, but for someone spending nearly $100,000 on her special day, perfectionist behavior was to be expected.</p><p> </p><p>When their plates were cleared and dessert was ordered, the subject shifted again when Iggy made the mistake of telling them he had met someone.He blushed blotchy red when Mandy wolf whistled.</p><p> </p><p>Several other restaurant patrons turned to look at them, but none of them cared.Mickey leaned forward, smirking.“So when we gonna meet her?” </p><p> </p><p>“Nah, man.”Iggy shook his head.“It’s only been a couple weeks.I’m not making her run that gauntlet yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where did you meet her?”Mandy asked, curious.Iggy didn’t seem to go anywhere other than work and school.</p><p> </p><p>“I fixed her brakes.”He replied, looking sheepish.</p><p> </p><p>“She has a car?”Mickey asked sounding surprised. Most people didn’t bother with cars in New York City.Those that did tended to be Uber drivers, service people, out of towners or the rich.Even Ian didn’t have a car.</p><p> </p><p>“Van.” Iggy corrected.Then a smile stretched across his face, wide and goofy and proud.“She’s got a mobile dog grooming business.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy smiled back.So did Mickey.It was good Iggy had found someone he was obviously head over heels for.He deserved to be loved.They all did.She leaned forward.“What’s her name?”</p><p> </p><p>“Chelsey.”Iggy mumbled like he expected to be made fun of.</p><p> </p><p>“Chelsey, the dog groomer.”Mickey said with a grin.</p><p> </p><p>Iggy immediately turned defensive.“Hey, she’s got her own business and her own van.She’s also got her own apartment in Queens.Never had a girl like this before.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy’s heart sank a little because she got it.In their family it always started with teasing and ended with destruction.Terry could not tolerate his children being happy or having anything he did not personally provide.It was all about control.</p><p> </p><p>Iggy was trying to take back control of his own life.He was brave enough to find love.Now, he was brave enough to tell his family about it.It was so hard to break the cycle of abuse but he was doing it.In their own ways, they were all doing it.Out loud she said, “She sounds pretty cool.”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Mickey was thinking along the same lines she was, because there was no snark in his voice or expression when he said, “Can’t wait to meet her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, we’ll see.”Iggy replied and Mandy could see the insecurity wallowing in his blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>She wanted to take it from him, but it mirrored her own feelings about her own fledgling relationship.It was hard to believe in love when you’d never had it.</p><p> </p><p>Even Mickey, who did have it, didn’t trust it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So....before anyone gives me a hard time about name changes - if I were related to Terry Milkovich there is zero chance I would carry his name for a nanosecond longer than I had to.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Happy Birthday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ian looked out over the sea of people partying on his roof top terrace and sighed.It was a gorgeous day.Warm, but not hot, sunny with some clouds offering moments of shade that kept the mostly outdoor party comfortable.</p><p> </p><p>He was 24 years old today.Usually he enjoyed birthdays, but he just couldn’t muster up much enthusiasm this year.He was supposed to be on a beach with Mickey right now, not on his roof. </p><p> </p><p>Mandy had been planning something fancy, but Ian had asked her to scale it back.He wasn’t in the mood for anything lavish.She had arranged a feast of grilled seafood and summery fruit based cocktails, but the decorating was pretty minimal.It was just a nothing fancy poolside party for friends and family.</p><p> </p><p>His thoughts were interrupted when Mickey slumped onto the chair next to him.He was wearing board shorts, knee brace and a tee shirt with the arms cut off.He was bare foot.Sunglasses hid his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had not wanted to explain their situation to Ian’s family so he had temporarily moved back into Ian’s room.He had not asked.He just brought all his stuff down and piled it in Ian’s closet.</p><p> </p><p>When Ian questioned him, he said it was just temporary until the Gallaghers left.That was all the talking they had done about the move.</p><p> </p><p>Calling it awkward was an understatement.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey spent last night on the pull out sofa.Ian had the bed, but hadn’t really slept.Instead he spent the night tossing and turning, grappling with mixed emotions about having Mickey back in his room.It was everything he wanted and nothing like he wanted it.</p><p> </p><p>Ian wondered why they were even bothering with the subterfuge.It had to be clear as day light to his family all was not right between them.</p><p> </p><p>Lip and Carl had not been able to come, thank god.Lip would see right through everything they were trying to hide and Ian really didn’t want to hear his older brother’s critique of his relationship.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona and Ford had come but something going on between them.Ian had noticed it immediately, but whatever it was, he didn’t ask about.Vee was keeping an eagle eye on them so he figured it was as handled as it could be. </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the Gallaghers and Balls were almost invisible to him.They were there, but beyond a few well wishes he had not really talked to them.The sibling most on his mind was Debbie.</p><p> </p><p>He was raising her kid. </p><p> </p><p><em>Mickey</em> was raising her kid while she was phoning in motherhood a few times a month.Frannie deserved better, but he was powerless to do anything about it.Debbie was Frannie’s mother, would always be her mother, and that mattered.</p><p> </p><p>Just like he had never been able to write off Monica in spite of the many, many reasons she had given him to do so, Frannie would never fully climb out from under the weight of her mother’s indifference.She would carry it all her life.</p><p> </p><p>They had not seen each other in person since Frank’s funeral back in January and Frannie was following her around like a neglected puppy.It was painful to watch.</p><p> </p><p>He just kept hoping somehow Debbie would wake the fuck up.So far, that had not happened. </p><p> </p><p>Instead, Debbie was treating Frannie like an accessory.She had brought an outfit for the little girl to wear that was completely impractical for a four year old at a swim party.Ian knew without doubt if he or Mickey had tried to get her to wear it Frannie would have thrown a fit, but since it was her mom, Frannie was occasionally tugging at it and never could seem to get the little hat into a place she liked it, but she didn’t take it off.The white 1950’s inspired sailor suit coordinated with Debbies outfit. </p><p> </p><p>Everyone they talked to, if they didn’t tell her she looked pretty or Debbie didn’t encourage them to tell her she was pretty, Frannie was asking if she looked pretty.Why?Because Debbie was treating her like a damn dress up doll.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was acutely aware of how mean kids could be to redheads and stunned at how easily Debbie seemed to have forgotten.He didn’t want Frannie focused on her looks.She was super cute now, but in a couple of years there would be an awkward stage where the freckles seemed to multiply like rabbits, the red curls turned into an uncontrollable fright wig and the nicknames grew cruel.After puberty, if she took after the Gallagher side of her family, she’d grow into her looks.The journey to that point, though...he would spare her that if he could. </p><p> </p><p>As a result he had taken a rare moment alone with Mickey to ask him to join him in deemphasizing appearance.He wanted Frannie to be confident inside herself instead of worried about her looks.Mickey had taken a moment, but eventually he agreed.Of course, he did so while proving Ian’s point with his commentary on what Ian had looked like back in little league, but words like pretty and beautiful were officially taken off the table.Instead they used words like ready, confident, prepared or strong.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie had undone all of that work in less than a day.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey, who had always had the shorter fuse, was holding his tongue, but Ian could see the strain.He doubted Mickey would make it through the weekend.At the rate things were going, he doubted the smaller man would make it through the party.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie was across the pool from them, Frannie right beside her.Her long auburn hair was styled into that smooth, loose waves thing pretty much every woman did to her hair these days.She was wearing a wide brim white hat, sunglasses, white bikini with a lace cover up and platform heels.Her lips were painted bright red.Looking at her with Frannie reminded Ian of the pool party scene from <em>Mommy Dearest</em>.</p><p> </p><p>It made him angry.</p><p> </p><p>“Her outfit, it is expensive.She wears about a thousand dollars in clothes.”Svetlana said, handing Ian a reusable plastic cup filled with a clear liquid garnished with a lime wedge. </p><p> </p><p>Ian frowned and took a sip.It was just sparkling water.He wished it was vodka.</p><p> </p><p>“The fuck does she think she’s doing?”Mickey growled, turning to join the conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Fitting in.Being available to rich men she thinks are here.” Svetlana shrugged.“She tries too hard.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who the hell spends that much on one outfit?”Mickey asked, incredulous.</p><p> </p><p>Ian wanted to tell him he did.Just the overcoat alone that Mickey had worn to Frank’s funeral had cost over a grand.The black suit had been almost four.Adolfo’s work was brilliant and brilliant work did not come cheap. </p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes, I do.”Svetlana said, striking a pose.She was similarly dressed, though mostly in black.She looked sleek, modern and comfortable in her own skin.That was the difference, Ian thought.Svetlana knew her own worth.Debbie was still trying to find hers. Svetlana smiled at the two men staring at her and announced, “Today, I do not.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not man hunting?” Mickey joked.</p><p> </p><p>Svetlana smile turned into a sneer.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously though.She could move up here on that.”Mickey said, glaring across the pool at Debbie who was talking to Bobby, the very engaged fiancé of Claymore’s VP of Public Relations.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, she could.”Ian agreed, angrily watching his sister not take an obvious hint when Bobby tried to walk away.He wondered if he should go rescue the poor man.</p><p> </p><p>Svetlana disagreed.“Is not enough.At least three thousand I think if she has job and roommate ready.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, she’s not getting any closer to that target wasting so much money on that shit. Fucking thousand dollar bikini, fuck.” Mickey grumbled, grabbing a beer off a passing tray.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey peeps.Whatcha doin’?”Fiona asked, slinging an arm over Mickey’s shoulders that he immediately ducked out from under.No one could touch him lately.Except Frannie.He made allowances for her.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona looked at Mickey funny and to distract her, Ian asked, “What is Debbie doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”Fiona asked, turning to look at her younger sister.Debbie was now sulking since Bobby had managed to escape her.He had his arm around his fiancé and looked like there should be an “I’m Taken” sign flashing over his head.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s with all the designer duds when she should be saving up to be closer to her kid?”Ian asked.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona grimaced and rolled her eyes.“You have rich friends and she has a tag gun.All of that will be returned when she gets home, she says.”</p><p> </p><p>“Unless she sweats in it or gets makeup on it or...” Ian started, only to watch the inevitable happen.Next to her someone stumbled and red sangria splashed all over her. “...someone spills a drink on her.”</p><p> </p><p>Debbie shouted, “Fuck!” loud enough for the entire party to hear and turn toward the noise.The attention didn’t last long. </p><p> </p><p>Frannie had been standing near her, just as she had done since the family arrived last night.She had gotten splashed with sangria too, but Debbie didn’t even notice her in her haste to get to the stairs.Hearing her mother so angry, Frannie burst into tears and scrambled after her crying.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips turned down.He got up and started after them.</p><p> </p><p>Watching Mickey storm off, Fiona asked, “Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.I’m taking my pills.” Ian replied, wondering if he should follow.Mickey’s emotions were very close to the surface these days.He was a hairs breadth away from losing his temper most of the time and Debbie was very good at pushing his buttons.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona tilted her head and arched an eyebrow. </p><p> </p><p>It was still about his bipolar.It was always about his bipolar, but at least she wasn’t just worried about his pills this time.She was seeing beyond that which meant her problems with Ford must be pretty bad if she was able to refocus on him.Usually when she did that it was to distract herself from her own issues.Even though he knew it and resented it, Ian still found himself opening up to her.“Just...it’s a little rough right now.He’s in counseling and working through some shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Counseling?Mickey?” Her eyes widened and her lips twisted into an ironic smile. “Wow, pigs really do fly.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s good for him.”Ian said, immediately defensive.Everything sucked right now, but there was a purpose to it.Dr. Brynner kept telling him Dr. Mohammed said Mickey was making great progress.Ian hung on those words like a lifeline because he wasn’t seeing it.To him, Mickey looked like a man on the edge.He was moody, rude and angry most of the time.</p><p> </p><p>It was bad enough Ian actually wanted to be away from him sometimes. It made going to work and finding excuses to be gone from the house every other weekend easier.Besides, reconnecting with his friends was good for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t seem so good for you.”Fiona said, the concern back in her expression.</p><p> </p><p>In the short term it sucked, but in the long term, on the other side of all this, it was everything.Amongst all the negativity, there were some positive signs.Mickey wasn’t limping anymore.He still had a few pounds to go, but he had gained a lot of weight back.Ian had not seen him look this healthy since before prison. </p><p> </p><p>They didn’t talk much without Frannie around.When they did it was uncomfortable and weird, but every once in a while Mickey offered a little glimpse into what he was doing.“He needs to work through it with someone so it’s good, but I mean, it’s a lifetime of abuse.Processing that isn’t fast or easy.I love him, so as unfun as it can be sometimes, I support him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just don't want you to be effected by it.”Fiona replied.</p><p> </p><p>“I also see a shrink, remember?It’s fine.”Dr. Brynner was using the moment to help him dig a little deeper into some of his own problems.</p><p> </p><p>While the world saw him as a successful businessman, inside Ian still felt like a ghost.He had grown up feeling that way.He wasn’t the smart one, or the mom, or the little sister, or the baby.He wasn’t a psychopath like Carl.He was the unseen second not-son who just kept his head down and tried to fill in the empty places with goals.</p><p> </p><p>He had thought things would change if he succeeded, but it didn’t help.Neither did wealth.He could be in a room full of people all clamoring for his attention and still feel like a ghost sometimes. </p><p> </p><p>Dr. Brynner thought it was good that he was coming to terms with this feeling.So did Ian, though it was painful dredging up how inadequate he had always felt because that was all about not feeling worthy of love.It was how men like Kash and Ned had been able to prey on him so easily.They had not loved him, but they had made him feel like they saw him.So, yeah, he was working through all of that shit on top of everything else.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“I know you love him, but just remember to put your mask on first, okay?Then you help Mickey with his.”Fiona chastened.She leaned her shoulder against his and forced him to look at her.“Take care you first, Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>“Working on it.”Ian frowned.He had a lot of feelings about his sister.A lot of what he was dealing with stemmed from her, but it wasn’t her fault.She had been a child raising children and she had done the best she could.Still, he was angry to have always been last on her list.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona smiled at him and ruffled his hair as Mandy walked up.Ian was grateful for the distraction. </p><p> </p><p>She looked beautiful.She was boho chic in a brightly colored maxi dress and sandals.Her eyes flicked from Fiona back to him and her smile fell into a small frown.“Ian, are you ready for the cake?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”He agreed, ready to think about something else for a while.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Debbie was in her room.The door was open so Mickey didn’t pause.He just walked right in.Frannie was sitting on the bed, picking at the hem of her stained little sailor suit looking sad.She glanced up at him with tear bright eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s insides tightened.He had been annoyed before watching Debbie’s clumsy attempts to work the room.He’d been pissed to learn how much her outfit cost, but all of that paled in comparison to the anger he felt for making Frannie cry.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie didn’t need to know that though so he winked at her.She pulled off the stupid hat that matched her outfit and gave him a feeble little smile. </p><p> </p><p>Oh, hell no.The bathroom door was open and Mickey barged right in.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck!” Debbie yelled at him reaching for a towel to cover her chest.“Ever heard of knocking?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey ignored her, surveying the lace cover up which it appeared she had managed to get the stain out of and the bikini top where it was still front and center. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t going to come out unless she got a stain stick on it now and put it in the washer.None of this was returnable now.Feeling a sick sort of glee, he leaned against the doorframe and asked, “Stain coming out?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”She growled and pushed past him to her suitcase.She pulled a tee shirt out of it and put it on.</p><p> </p><p>“Try seltzer water.”Mickey suggested, knowing it wouldn’t work.“Or maybe, don’t buy shit you can’t afford.Then you could just put spot remover on it and throw it in the fucking washer like a normal person.”</p><p> </p><p>She turned to glare at him.“Fuck you, Mickey.Not all of us have sugar daddies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ha. Ha.”Mickey slow clapped at her.“Looks like you’re hoping to land one.”</p><p> </p><p>“So what?”She asked, re-wetting the hand towel and dabbing at the bikini again.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked out into the bedroom at the little girl sitting there looking forlorn.He wondered what Debbie had said to make his little ginger look like that.Speculating about it made him more angry.“So instead of playing sugar daddy bingo, maybe figure out how to take care of yourself and your kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s easy for you to say.” She snarled holding her arms out wide and gesturing for him to look around himself as if the lavish room had something to add to the conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Because Ian had soon to be wealthy businessman written all over him at 15.Right.”Mickey snarked back, feeling defensive all of a sudden.Ian’s prospects had been almost as limited as his way back then.Mickey had loved him when he had nothing.He’d loved Ian when his bipolar was unmedicated and unmanaged.In the grand scheme of things, Ian’s money was meaningless. More to himself than to Debbie, he said, “Besides, I got a job.I can pay my bills. I don’t need Ian’s money.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I don’t either!”She swung around to face him.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not how it looks from where I’m standing.”Mickey snarled, deliberately eyeballing her. God, it pissed him off how she wouldn’t take help from Ian but she would spend a fortune trying to find someone else to take care of her.“Maybe instead of spending money you don’t have on fancy clothes, you should be saving up to move to New York, or is that not the plan anymore?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m trying, alright?It’s hard.Jesus.” She deflated and glanced out at her daughter sitting on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“You really want to talk to me about hard?”Mickey challenged, not caring about the clothes or the money.He cared about the self pitying cross she was nailing herself to.Debbie had been neglected, sure.Maybe abused at times, but it was nothing in comparison to the hell scape of Mickey’s life.From birth he had been victimized in one way or another, but he sucked it up and kept going.He didn’t whine about it like some bitch.Debbie was the victim of her own choices throwing herself a poorly attended pity party. There was no comparison.None.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t say anything for a moment, head cocked, maybe realizing the futility of playing a game of who has it worse with him. </p><p> </p><p>Then she pushed past him saying, “Is that Happy Birthday?I think it is.We’re missing the cake.”</p><p> </p><p>As Debbie flounced out of the room in her bikini bottoms and tee shirt apparently no longer interested in impressing Ian’s friends,Frannie scampered after her leaving Mickey standing there.</p><p> </p><p>Once again nothing he said had gotten through.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I hate your sister.”Mickey said as he walked into the bedroom. </p><p> </p><p>Ian was already in bed checking his Twitter feed.They had started running teasers for the new game he would announce at Comicon.It always made him a little nervous, but so far, so good.He put his phone down, hoping maybe they would get a chance to talk a little.“Which one?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fucking Debbie.”Mickey replied as he rummaged through the laundry basket he had brought his clothes down in.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s only 19, Mickey.”Ian responded.There was little love lost between him and his sister, but the way Mickey said her name made it sound like he hated her.They couldn’t afford that.Not for Frannie’s sake.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey glared at him.“You had your shit together by 19.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sort of, yeah.But Debbie isn’t like me.”They were similar in that they both went for what the wanted, but it ended there.Ian was able to identify a good thing when he had it.Debbie was always trading in for a better deal.</p><p> </p><p>“Fiona was raising five kids at 19.”Mickey retorted, resuming his rummaging and coming up with boxers and a tee shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“Debbie isn’t like Fiona either.”Debbie and Fiona were night and day.Fiona was well acquainted with consequences and spend most of her time in mitigation mode.She was a natural survivalist.Debbie rarely considered the down side of the decisions she made and then played the victim when they didn’t work out her way. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey walked into the bathroom to change clothes.From the other side of the cracked open door he said, “Mandy was working full time and taking a full load of classes at 19.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, so you got me there, but Mandy isn’t as impetuous as Debbie.Mandy thinks through things.Debbie just does.It hasn’t bitten her hard...”</p><p> </p><p>“How much harder does it have to fucking bite her?Prison?Death?That’s about all that’s left, shit.”Mickey asked, stalking back out the bathroom and over toward the pullout.</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed.He had no more control over what Debbie did than the man in the moon.All he could do was try to contain the fallout.Mickey knew that, so he asked, “What do you want me to do about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, I don’t know.Nothing you can do I guess.” Mickey replied, rubbing a hand down his face as he pulled the covers over himself and settled back against the pillows.“I just hate it.Frannie doesn’t deserve this.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, she doesn’t.”Ian agreed.She didn’t deserve the way Debbie was treating her.She didn’t deserve the issues between Ian and Mickey.She didn’t deserve any of it.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s gonna be heartbroken when Debbie leaves.”Mickey said.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was already dreading it.“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not right.”</p><p> </p><p>“Agreed, but again, what can we do?”Ian asked.He had no idea what to do, but he was open to suggestion. </p><p> </p><p>“Make Debbie fight for her.”Mickey said.</p><p> </p><p>“How?”After the trauma of the initial separation Debbie seemed to be adjusting to the situation rather than trying to change it.</p><p> </p><p>“Dunno.Even the threat of her baby daddy taking her kid doesn’t do shit to motivate her.”Mickey said what Ian was thinking.Mickey told Mildred to turn off the lights and then said, “Some people shouldn’t have kids.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or at least not so young.” Ian agreed trying to hold out hope someday his little sister would pull her shit together. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted his disagreement.It seemed like the end of it as silence descended after that. </p><p> </p><p>Ian snuggled down in the bed and tried to turn his mind off.</p><p> </p><p>“They leave tomorrow, right?”Mickey asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian confirmed, wondering why Mickey was asking.Tomorrow was Sunday so of course they were leaving. Liam and the Ball girls had to get back to school on Monday.</p><p> </p><p>There was a bunch of movement from the pull out couch and then Mickey mumbled, “Night, fire crotch.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled at the nickname.It was Mickey’s tell for when he was feeling something uncomfortable. Small things like that gave Ian hope.Feeling better than he had in a while, he said, “Good night, Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Mickey woke up a little disoriented.He’d been dreaming but not the memorable kind.He stretched and looked over at the bed.It was empty.Ian must be out running, per the usual.</p><p> </p><p>It was weird how out of rhythm he felt.Just sleeping in the same room with Ian felt weird.It wasn’t bad, but he still wasn’t ready for it.It was too close.Too much.He was glad he could move back into his own room as soon as the Gallaghers cleared out later today.</p><p> </p><p>Thinking of Gallaghers, he decided to ask the home A.I. system Ian had to do a little recon for him.  There were cameras, mics and speakers all over the house like it was a Vegas casino.  It controlled the doors, the windows, the fireplaces, damn near everything.  It had face and voice recondition.  It was a lot like Alexa, only more advanced.  It was the pet project of Claymore’s head of cyber security.  It had weirded him out at first, but now he was used to it.  He said, “Mildred, show me Frannie.”</p><p> </p><p>The TV popped on and showed him the little girl was still asleep in her bed.That was good at least.</p><p> </p><p>“Mildred, show me Debbie.”</p><p> </p><p>Debbie was also still sleeping, thank Christ.</p><p> </p><p>He ran through the rest of the family and other than Fiona and Ford, everyone was still in their beds.Fiona was in the kitchen staring at the coffee machine.</p><p> </p><p>He slapped on the knee brace and hit the bathroom before he trotted down the stairs to join her.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.”He muttered, coming up behind her and running a hand though his hair to smooth it down.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning.”She greeted him.</p><p> </p><p>“Mildred, show me the fourth floor hallway.”He told the A.I. and the TV flashed on.He explained himself saying, “Wanna know when Debbie or Frannie get up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Smart.”She agreed.The coffee maker beeped and Fiona filled a mug for him before filling her own.Leaning against the counter she asked, “You holding up okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, where’s Ford?”</p><p> </p><p>“Running with Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.“Does he run?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes.”Fiona smirked.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes.A guy who ran sometimes was never going to keep up with Ian’s maniacal pace.“Does he know Ian runs eight six minute miles every day?”</p><p> </p><p>Her smirk turned evil.“Nope.”</p><p> </p><p>“Man, is he gonna regret that.”Ford seemed like the type who would try to keep up appearances not wanting to be shown up when Ian fucking lapped him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, probably.”She shrugged and something about it made Mickey think she wanted the run to hurt, like maybe she thought Ford deserved the pain. “Ian’s doing okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.He’s good.Holding steady.”Mickey replied, watching her, trying to figure out what the undertone was between her and Ford.</p><p> </p><p>Shrewd brown eyes looked him over.“You seem pretty stressed out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Got a case going to court soon.”Mickey replied grateful he had a way to answer the question that had nothing to do with Ian.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.Is this your first one?”She asked, looking interested for the first time.</p><p> </p><p>“No, but the first where I could be called to give evidence.Sort of freaking me out.”It was very unlikely he would be called but they were still trying to get him ready to testify if needed.Austin would be the main presenter.</p><p> </p><p>“Being on the witness stand and not as the defendant, that’s gotta be a little scary.”She mused.</p><p> </p><p>“Right?” Mickey agreed.He had gone to court several times to observe other Wolf, Pratt and Stevens accountants give evidence because Tom wanted him to see what it looked like.It had been strange as hell the first time but like all things in his life, easier on repetition. “Who would have thought.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ian did.”Fiona reminded him, with a pat on the back.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah.Without Ian, none of this would have happened.</p><p> </p><p>Fucking Ian.</p><p> </p><p>Movement on the monitor caught his attention.Debbie was up and heading for the stairs.Mickey decided it was an opportune moment to remind the red head what she was risking by being a selfish idiot. </p><p> </p><p>Trying to make the transition seem natural he said, “Speaking of Ian, he got Frannie accepted to Yev’s school for kindergarten.”</p><p> </p><p>Fiona nodded like she expected that to happen.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie who had just entered the kitchen, muttered, “He did?” </p><p> </p><p>As she got a cup of coffee, Mickey wondered if she remembered the new school year started in August.That was right around the corner.At the rate their case was going, Frannie would still be living with them for at least the first semester of the new school year. </p><p> </p><p>If Debbie would just move her ass to New York then Frannie would be able to take advantage of all the opportunities a school like that offered.It was a life changing chance Debbie should be grateful for, especially since it had not been easy to get her accepted.“Yeah.No idea who he had to blow to make that happen, but he got her in.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a good school?”Debbie asked, expression unreadable.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s a shit hole.”Mickey snarked at her.What kind of question was that?If it was good enough for Yevgeny it was good enough for Frannie.“It’s one of the best in New York.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Debbie’s shoulders slumped.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey realized maybe he had gone a little too far bragging about the life Frannie had in New York. He clapped her on the back.“You know none of this fancy bullshit matters, right?Frannie just wants to be with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Debbie jerked away from him.“But...”</p><p> </p><p>“The Delgados will get her if you don’t.”Mickey reminded her. </p><p> </p><p>“No.They won’t.”Debbie disagreed.</p><p> </p><p>“They could.”Fiona said, siding with Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>“Ian would never let that happen.”Debbie argued, which was true.Ian would never let the Delgados have her, but the Delgados were going to try.</p><p> </p><p>“So, you’ll accept his help after all?”Mickey asked, because without Ian’s help she was making the custody battle a lot harder for herself. If the goal was a sugar daddy to take care of her, Mickey could not figure out why she wouldn’t let Ian take care of her until she landed one.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie sighed.“You don’t understand.”</p><p> </p><p>“The fuck I don’t.”Mickey argued.He had been told all his life Milkoviches were self sufficient and to suck it the fuck up, make his own way, fuck everyone else.When he got out of prison he had hated being dependent on Mandy.He had hated borrowing money from her.He had nearly killed himself trying to pay it back and get on equal footing again, but he was glad he had accepted the help.If he hadn’t he would have tried to support himself the old way and ended up back in prison. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s different.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever.”Mickey snorted, forcing himself to let it drop. He could lead a horse to water, but he couldn’t make it drink.</p><p> </p><p>The Gallaghers couldn’t fuck off back to Chicago fast enough in his opinion.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope everyone is doing well.  I‘m supposed to be sitting on a beach down in Mexico drinking margaritas right now, but COVID had other plans.  Instead I’m having a mini staycation to avoid the 14 day quarantine I would have had to do if I had gone with my friends.</p><p>It’s a little lonely, not gonna lie.</p><p>Also, please, please, please vote.  Don’t get discouraged, because that’s the point of all this chaos. The America we knew and the one we aspire to be hinge on ALL of us getting out there either via mail or in person and voting.  Do it as early as you can.  Do not wait. VOTE!  </p><p>Thanks for coming to my TED talk.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Wolfe, Pratt and Stevens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, Mickey, how was the party?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Kinda boring.” Mickey admitted.Ian’s birthday was only the second of Mandy’s parties he had been to and while it was lightyears nicer than any of their old neighborhood parties back on the Southside, it was also not as fun.“Dunno, maybe it’s because all these people have things to lose, but it’s not like back home, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“How so?”</p><p> </p><p>“Back home we let off steam at parties.Everyone would get drunk or high or both.People paired up to fuck or fight or whatever.” He shrugged.All good Southside parties ended with the cops coming to break up a fight.</p><p> </p><p>“Parties were a release valve.”Dr. Mohammed prompted.</p><p> </p><p>“Basically.”Mickey agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“An escape.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Like a chance to just let everything go for a little while.”Mickey agreed.They just lost themselves in the pleasure of losing themselves.The hedonistic irresponsibility had been cathartic in an environment where being on guard was a survival skill.</p><p> </p><p>“But parties now serve a different purpose.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.When it’s just family and friends it’s okay.It’s the plus ones that fuck everything up.”Mickey complained.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed nodded.“Like extended family or significant others wanting to tell you about amazing business opportunities or ask for a loan.Cousins bringing friends from school who would like a letter of reference to medical school.”</p><p> </p><p>Once again Mickey found himself wondering about Dr. Mohammed’s private life.The man clearly had some experience with this.“Exactly like that.I mean, there’s a time and a place, you know?Ian’s fucking birthday party ain’t it.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Speaking of Ian, how are things?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.Weird.”Mickey admitted.It wasn’t how he wanted it to be, that was for sure.“It’s always weird now.”</p><p> </p><p>“You moved back into his room?”</p><p> </p><p>They had talked about it before Mickey did it.Dr. Mohammed thought it was a bad idea, but Mickey had not been willing to walk the Gallagher gantlet again. He had endured their questioning back at Thanksgiving.He didn’t want to do it again.“For two days, yeah.Back in my room now.”</p><p> </p><p>“How was it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not as bad as I thought it would be?”It came out like an question, but it really hadn’t been that bad. Ian had kept his distance, but they had also been able to talk a little. </p><p> </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey wasn’t sure why it wasn’t as weird as he thought it would be.“Dunno.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you less interested in him?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”Mickey responded immediately.It wasn’t a lack of interest. Not by a long shot, but he also didn't know how to explain why it was less awful than than he expected.“Fuck, Doc.”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps being near him is less triggering?”Dr. Mohammed asked, watching him closely.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey thought about that.When he moved up to the fourth floor, just being in the same room with Ian made him anxious.It wasn’t anything Ian was doing, it was just...too raw.In the weeks since then, things had gotten a little better.His skin no longer crawled when Ian was in a room with him, which was a huge improvement, but he still got anxious if Ian entered his personal space. “Maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Were you able to sleep?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey had surprised himself with how well he had slept.</p><p> </p><p>“Was it good sleep?”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, yeah.The sofa bed is uncomfortable as fuck, but,” really no worse than most of the other mattresses in his life.Thinking about it, “It was kinda nice having him there.”</p><p> </p><p>“You miss him.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded.He did miss Ian.He missed the ginger idiot so much, but he just couldn’t yet.Not yet.</p><p> </p><p>“You are making progress.”Dr. Mohammed said, tone reassuring.</p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t feel like it.”Mickey muttered, wishing he could just make it okay somehow.He wanted an instant fix, but that didn’t exist.Instead it was like slogging through knee deep mud.“Still fucking hate group.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed smiled.“No one likes group, Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is this ever gonna get easier?”Mickey ask for at least the thousandth time.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.It will.You are doing the work.”Dr. Mohammed gave the same answer he had given the last nine hundred ninety nine times.</p><p> </p><p>“Ball of shit up a hill.” Mickey muttered, referring to the scarab beetle reference Dr. Mohammed used for the journey he was on.</p><p> </p><p>“Near the summit.”</p><p> </p><p>“What makes you think that?Like, what are you seeing here that makes you think that?”Mickey asked, because most of the time it felt like walking on a treadmill, thousands of steps to nowhere.</p><p> </p><p>“You are no longer punishing yourself.”Dr. Mohammed pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t my fault.”Mickey replied.</p><p> </p><p>“And you finally believe that.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded.After a lot of work, he finally did.Allowing himself to be more angry than ashamed about what had happened to him was great.However, “I still got hang ups though.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed wrote a note in his journal and then looked Mickey dead in the eye.“I think it’s time you share in group.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hell no.”Mickey immediately balked. “I talk to you.Isn’t that enough?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Mickey, it is not.”Dr. Mohammed disagreed. “Group is about shared lived experience.It offers a level of understanding you will find nowhere else.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes.“Like AA where you never get over it, you just rehash it once a week for eternity.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed frowned.“Not like AA.This is not a lifetime battle with addiction.This is a devastating event in your life you are working though and will one day get past.”</p><p> </p><p>It was rare for Dr. Mohammed to frown at him and Mickey didn’t like it.He also didn’t like group.He really couldn’t see how telling those fuckers what had happened to him would help.“But why do I have to tell them about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because secrets are poison.I am not asking you to stand on a street corner and tell the world what happened to you.I am asking you to share your story with nine other people who have lived similar trauma.They have a level of understanding and empathy you will find nowhere else.”Dr. Mohammed explained.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”Mickey ran a hand down his face.It was hard enough talking to Dr. Mohammed about these things.He’d told Ian too.That had to count for something, but the way Dr. Mohammed was looking at him, more was needed.</p><p> </p><p>“It is the next step in healing, Mickey.”Dr. Mohammed reminded him. “This is how you get well.”</p><p> </p><p>Something about the older man’s tone sent a chill down Mickey’s back.“So you’re just done with me?”</p><p> </p><p>The doctor spread his hands out wide in a conciliatory gesture.“Of course not, but you and I are starting to spin in circles because we are operating in a vacuum.It is time to get more air in here.”</p><p> </p><p>“So I’m not making progress any more?”Mickey asked because that thought was terrible.He was not over it.Not even close.Not yet.The thought that Dr. Mohammed didn't think they were getting anywhere anymore, that was scary.</p><p> </p><p>“Think about this like walking up stairs.It’s one step at a time until you reach the landing where you go neither up nor down.We are on a landing.Sharing in group is the next step.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know landings happen half way up, right?Are you telling me I’m only half way there?”He thought he was doing better than that.</p><p> </p><p>“They can also occur near the top and near the bottom.”Dr. Mohammed sighed.“The steps in mental health are not linear, Mickey.They are more like M.C. Escher stairs.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>The doctor pulled out his phone, something he never did in a session, and after a second searching put the phone in Mickey’s hand.The picture was of stairs that made absolutely no sense as people were walking at different angles and he couldn’t tell what was up and what was down.</p><p> </p><p>“You see, directionality depends on perspective and it is different for each person.You will not know which way you are going until you take another step forward.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stared at the stairs.It was impossible to know up from down and maybe that was the point.He wouldn’t know which way he was headed until he took that step.He sighed. “And the only way to do that is to share in group.”</p><p> </p><p>“I believe so, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>A few days later, Mickey walked into a restaurant with a belly full of butterflies.Mandy was already there waiting for him for which he was grateful.She looked amazing in a navy blue cocktail dress that highlighted all her best features.She was his plus one for tonight’s work party.She stood up and looked him over before reaching out and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “You look great.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, did you wear your highest heels or what?”Mickey groused at the height disparity.She was now at least two inches taller than him maybe more.</p><p> </p><p>“Just for you, cupcake.”She teased holding up a foot to show him nude platform peekaboo heels with red soles he knew meant they were expensive as fuck.She hooked her arm through his and they faced the hostess.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you?” She asked, looking up from her iPad.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Wolfe, Pratt and Stevens party?”Mickey asked, adjusting his tie.They were celebrating the end of their fiscal year with a company dinner.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.Follow me.”She said, coming around her little stand and leading them down through the restaurant to a large room in the back that was half full with people Mickey knew.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy was still hanging on his arm as she surveyed the room.“So, coworkers. Which one is that asshat Clive?”</p><p> </p><p>“That fat fuck over there.”Mickey gestured in the direction of Clive and his group of cronies. They had not seen Mickey come in yet.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy offered Mickey a sinister smile.“Ooooh, I am gonna fuck with him a little, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>While it probably wasn’t wise, Mickey also couldn’t help wanting to see his work nemesis humiliated.“Knock yourself out.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy sashayed over to the bar near Clive’s group and took up a position on the end where they would certainly see her.</p><p> </p><p>Austin and Kennedy came up to him.Austin leaned in and asked, “Who is <em>that</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“My sister Mandy.”Mickey replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn, man.Your sister is gorgeous.”Austin replied, staring at Mandy who had now caught the eye of Clive’s group as well.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted. “Don’t let the good looks fool you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?Did she also inherit your charming personality?”Kennedy joked.</p><p> </p><p>“And then some.”Mickey replied.Mandy could more than hold her own. </p><p> </p><p>She had a glass of wine in her hand and was leaning back against the bar observing the room.She looked like a million bucks, managing to ride the fine line between inviting and aloof.</p><p> </p><p>Austin nudged his shoulder.“So beautiful <em>and</em> scary.Sounds like my kind of girl.You wouldn’t mind if...”</p><p> </p><p>“Man, you wanna give it a go, good luck and god’s speed.”In the year since he had gotten out of prison Mickey had not seen Mandy date.Maybe she had a secret boyfriend hidden somewhere, something she could easily do now that they didn’t live together anymore, but he doubted it. </p><p> </p><p>In a lot of ways she was just as fucked up as he was.Unlike him, she wasn’t seeing a shrink to work through her shit.Mickey never commented on that though, figuring she just wasn’t ready yet.Besides, she was building a career and every man she had ever let into her life derailed her in some way.It was probably better she do what she needed to do to feel independent and strong before she start confronting the things that made her feel small and broken.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, there was no way Mandy would go for Austin.He was way too goody two shoes for her.Still, just to make things absolutely clear he warned, “You do anything, and I mean anything that hurts her...I <em>will</em> fuck you up.”</p><p> </p><p>Austin glanced at Mickey’s hands reminding him he really needed to figure out the cover up situation for the remnants of FUCK U-UP.He didn’t want to be the guy with knuckle tats any more, but as much as could be removed had been.Rough and home done, some of the ink had been too deep to be removed.They weren’t as obvious, but they were still legible if someone stared.Feeling self conscious, Mickey put his hands in his pockets and set off for the bar on the opposite wall from Mandy leaving Austin to figure out his approach by himself. </p><p> </p><p>Kennedy followed him.After both men got a beer, Mickey turned to survey the room taking note of where the three partners were so he could go greet each of them.He and Tom had talked about how to act at the party and being seen by the partners was part of it.Mickey was working up the courage to go say hello to Cory Pratt when Kennedy called his attention back to Mandy.“She’s going to eat him alive isn’t she?”</p><p> </p><p>Austin had joined Clive and his friends talking to Mandy.She was in full flirt mode with her focus on Clive who was lapping up the attention like a dog with peanut butter.“After she’s done with Clive, yeah.He’ll be dessert.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes I am so glad I’m gay.Men are a lot easier to read.”Kennedy said.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted. Ian could pretty complicated sometimes.</p><p> </p><p>It was as if thinking about the ginger menace manifested him.Kennedy asked, “Where is Ian anyway?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s out of town.” Mickey replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I bet he’s busy all the time running such a big company.”Kennedy agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty busy, yeah.”Mickey parroted. Kennedy gave him a look that made Mickey worry the other man was seeing something Mickey didn’t want him to see.To distract he explained, “He’s at Comicon announcing a new game.It’s called <em>Hide</em>.It’s about forest dwelling elves who are trying to keep their community safe from the outside world.Like a commentary on deforestation and climate change in game form or some shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is so cool!” Kennedy gushed before he skewered Mickey with a look that said he was in no way distracted.“Why didn’t you go with him?”</p><p> </p><p>“I had to be here.” That had been the excuse anyway.Ian had floated an offer, but Mickey just didn’t feel ready yet. </p><p> </p><p>Kennedy looked at him like he was an idiot.“I totally would have ditched this place to do Comicon like he’s probably doing Comicon. I mean, <em>come on</em>.Imagine it: penthouse suite overlooking San Diego Bay, all access passes to the con, the parties, the goodies, Jesus you’re an idiot.”</p><p> </p><p>Yeah.He was an idiot.It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to go to Comicon.It would be fucking awesome.He knew that.He just couldn’t yet.Maybe next year.  Maybe.</p><p> </p><p>The ginger menace had left Mickey an itinerary so detailed Mickey knew everywhere Ian would be the entire time he was gone.Mickey found the earnestness of the gesture guilt inspiring. They were basically just roommates right now so Ian didn’t owe him shit. </p><p> </p><p>Besides, he needed to be at this party.Tom said it was important he be present and engaged since the other partners really didn’t know him.If he wanted to advance his career, he needed to impress them as much as he impressed Tom.So, no pressure there.</p><p> </p><p>He started wondering how Yevgeny’s nanny was making out with two kids when his thoughts were interrupted.  Tom clapped him on the back saying, “Mickey, so glad you were able to make it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, boss.Wouldn’t miss it.”Mickey agreed.He had done a lot of prep work for this, like learning how to do the silverware if the meal was complicated and coming up with a few small talk topics he wouldn’t stumble over when he had to talk to people.</p><p> </p><p>Kennedy said hello to Tom before wandering off to talk to another one of their coworkers.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was still watching Mandy.Clive was close to her and whatever he said, Mandy was laughing at.Clive touched her arm.Mickey scowled.</p><p> </p><p>Tom said, “Pretty girl.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey glanced at his boss and then followed the older man’s gaze back to Mandy.“My sister.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. Well, she’s lovely.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey felt the need to elaborate because being pretty wasn’t all she had going for her so he said, “She’s an event planner at the Marquis.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom nodded in familiarity.“That place is huge.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. It is.”Mickey agreed.“She does weddings and parties mostly.”</p><p> </p><p>“To look at her, she has great taste.”Tom said.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked at her again.She was beautiful, he thought, glamorous and confident in her navy blue dress and stupid expensive shoes.She was light years removed from the girl he grew up with.“Yeah, <em>now</em>.Back in Chicago her look was full on gothic skank.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom chuckled and joked, “Like yours was hoodlum chic?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, like that.”Mickey agreed.If anyone else had said that he would have gotten angry, but Tom was his mentor.He could take a joke from someone who was teasing rather than cutting him down.</p><p> </p><p>Tom was watching him, assessing his reaction.When Mickey looked up at him, Tom said, “People change, Mickey.People change.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.They do.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom got another bourbon and then turned his attention back to Mickey.“Next time, it’s okay to bring your boyfriend.No one will think any less of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey almost choked.He had not, not brought Ian because he feared being outed at work.Clive had already seen to that.He had not mentioned the party to Ian at all because he knew the ginger idiot would hop a plane and come back from the con just to spend two hours at the party and then fly back.He already had a punishing itinerary.There was no benefit to anyone if Ian got over tired.“He’s out of town.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mikhailo.”Tom said, giving him the sort of chiding look Ward Cleaver gave to the Beaver.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, next time.Okay.” Mickey muttered, not liking that he had just associated his boss with the sort of father figure he had always wished for.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I feel like I’m being a little boring here, but I’m building to something.  I promise.</p><p>Hope everyone is doing well!  Take care of yourselves.  ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. ComiCon Is Supposed to be Fun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ian was watching a flock of pelicans skim over the surface of the ocean.It was amazing how they managed to stay so close to the water as waves moved under them.It was a serene dance between natural elements that he wanted to lose himself in.</p><p> </p><p>Behind him on the yacht a party was raging.It was the last day of ComiCon and he was exhausted. It had been a whirlwind of presentations, interviews, and parties.He had not been able to see much of the con this year.He had been too busy with the announcement of <em>Hide</em>.</p><p> </p><p>This was the last major event.Tomorrow, he had two more interviews and then he would be on a plane back to New York.</p><p> </p><p>He could not wait to get home.</p><p> </p><p>“You are tired.”Svetlana said as she handed him glass of something fruity.</p><p> </p><p>Ian took it and looked at her.She was wearing more makeup than normal.Ian figured it was to hide the circles under her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“So are you,” he replied.To someone who knew her it was clear she was tired too, but she still looked fantastic.He thought it took some serious balls to wear a bikini in public with photographers present.The burgundy wine colored top was tasteful and the colorful wrap around her hips showed enough leg to be sexy without being sleazy.It had taken her a while to learn how to pull that off, but she had it down now.</p><p> </p><p>“Home tomorrow.”She agreed, leaning on the rail next to him.“To sleep in my own bed.I look forward to this.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian did too.The yacht was incredible and the cabin he was staying in might as well be a hotel suite, but as nice as it was, it wasn’t home.He had too many people around him and too many eyes on him to really relax.He enjoyed running on the strand in the mornings and the constant scent of sea air, but he was more than ready to go home.He missed his family, tenuous as that situation was. </p><p> </p><p>At least with Mickey and Frannie he could let his guard down and rest.</p><p> </p><p>A photographer approached them so Ian and Svetlana dutifully turned around to have their photo taken.Ian asked the guy for a copy.The sun was setting and the pelicans were still out there. He thought it might be a picture worth having.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the photographer left, Svetlana said, “You have done well this week, I think.<em>Hide</em> is off to good start.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian hoped he had.It was hard to tell sometimes.“Hope so.The buzz seems to be pretty positive.”</p><p> </p><p>“Always you worry.” Svetlana rolled her eyes at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Everything okay on the home front?”He asked, because while he FaceTimed Frannie every night, he had no interaction with Mickey.Mickey talked to Yevgeny every day though, so Svetlana knew more about what was happening with him than Ian did.</p><p> </p><p>“Yevgeny is well.He talks to Papa every day.Yevgeny says Papa is okay.Anya,” Yevgeny’s nanny who was helping Mickey out with Frannie while Ian was gone, “says Frannie is okay too.Mickey does not break her.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told him he’d be fine.He’s a great dad.” Ian replied. It was the first time Mickey had been left alone with a child for longer than a day.Mickey had been very uncomfortable with the idea so Ian hoped this would be a confidence booster for him.The man sold himself short in Ian’s opinion.</p><p> </p><p>“I could never imagine, but he is.Children, he is good with.” Svetlana agreed, but in the same breath she said, “You, not so much.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s trying.”Ian replied, feeling defensive, but really, there was nothing he could say to her. She knew things were bad between them.Ian suspected she knew why, too, but to ask about it would be to confirm it and he wasn’t going to break Mickey’s trust.If he wanted her to know, Mickey would tell her. </p><p> </p><p>Leaving out the prison rape, what she knew about Mickey from her own experience was more than enough to explain why therapy was so hard on him and on his relationships.Svetlana had been through worse, but somehow she had never been effected by it like this.“Why is it so easy for you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is not easy, Ian.” She glared at him for a moment and then sighed, softening.“I was sold when I am 13.No one cares for me.Everyone uses me.But opportunities, they come and I take them.Each time I take them and now here I am, American success story.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian immediately felt guilty.He should never have even thought she was unaffected.She just seemed so strong in comparison.It was like she powered through it when Mickey was entirely derailed.Feeling like an asshole, he moaned, “Fuck, Svet.I shouldn’t have said that.I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“We are on boat.I make boat analogy.I was at sea, drifting and lost but able to find safe harbor.This is you by the way.”She said and Ian knew she was talking about Claymore.It had changed all their lives, but he would never have been able to make it work without her.She was the spine that held the whole things up. </p><p> </p><p>“Mickey is anchored in place.He cannot move.Storm comes, he cannot escape.He takes on water, more and more water but he does not sink.Not yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s free now though.”Ian replied, disagreeing.Mickey’s life was entirely different from what it had been, just like Svetlana’s was.</p><p> </p><p>“Until Terry Milkovich is dead all he can do is...” She made baling motions probably because she didn’t have the English words.</p><p> </p><p>The reference was easy enough to understand and when he thought about it, it made sense.Mickey would never truly be free until Terry was dead. </p><p> </p><p>Before Ian could say anything, he was accosted by one of his premier gamers.“What are you two talking about looking so serious.This is supposed to be fun, people.”</p><p> </p><p>Jake Bevin, aka DireWolfe, was the top ranked player in the <em>Survive Southside</em> tournaments and had won millions. They had a mutually beneficial relationship since DireWolfe made his name cutting his teeth on <em>Survive Southside</em> and his popularity on Twitch and YouTube helped put Claymore on the map.</p><p> </p><p>They had made each other rich, so Ian turned on the charm, smiling like he was a little drunk and very happy to be pulled away from his sunset revere, which in reality he sort of was. “Are you having a good time?Gods know I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck yeah, man.See that girl over there?She’s into me.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian seriously doubted that, since the girl in question looked like a Sports Illustrated model and Jake was an average height, average build, a little doughy around the middle, young looking guy with bright blue hair and beard to match.They were his trademarks.Which meant that very pretty girl probably knew exactly who he was and how much he was worth.</p><p> </p><p>Ian imagined Jake got laid a lot at conventions like this. </p><p> </p><p>Svetlana who was very, very good at the game of cat and mouse with men leaned in to Jake, whispering something to him that made him smile.The model frowned.Svetlana, touched Jake’s arm and laughed for a moment before excusing herself to the bar saying loudly that she would be right back. </p><p> </p><p>The model immediately approached Jake who looked at her like she was the tastiest snack he had ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes and moved away from them, heading toward Svetlana only to be stopped by another party goer. </p><p> </p><p>He still had a couple of hours to go so he turned on the happy go lucky gaming tycoon charm he had nearly perfected and let himself be absorbed into the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The next day, Ian trudged up the stairs to his front door dragging his suit case behind him.ComiCon had been a blast, but he was exhausted.He was really looking forward to the relative peace and quiet of being home.</p><p> </p><p>Inside, the house smelled amazing.It was a little after six o’clock so Ian figured Mickey was working on dinner.Eating a home cooked meal was something else he was looking forward to.</p><p> </p><p>He made his way up the stairs to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey and Frannie were together at the island.Mickey’s hair had fallen forward, obscuring his eyes.He was wearing a tee shirt that was tantalizingly tight through the shoulders and chest.Ian took a second to admire the view before glancing at Frannie sitting on one of the kitchen stools with an iPad in front of her and an iPad Pencil in her hand working on something.She would start kindergarten soon so they had been working with her to make sure she was ready for it. </p><p> </p><p>The picture before him was the sort of domestic bliss he longed for. </p><p> </p><p>It was moments like this got him through the rough patches.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked up at him and by way of welcome asked, “So, how was it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Amazing.”Ian said, because it had been.ComiCon was always a great time and this year had been no different, maybe even better than prior years.The response to <em>Hide</em> had been pretty positive overall too. </p><p> </p><p>Personally, he didn’t like it as much as <em>Survive Southside</em> which was still his all time favorite.He did not think <em>Hide</em> was as good as that, but felt it should be on par with Claymore’s second most popular game, <em>Torchlight</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded, letting his gaze fall back to the vegetables he was cutting into large pieces. </p><p> </p><p>Unsure if that was all he was going to get, or if maybe he could make something more of the moment Ian offered, “You should come with me next time.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wanna go.”Frannie said as she jumped off her stool and came over to hug him.</p><p> </p><p>Ian picked her up and hugged her.“Maybe you and Yev can come too next year.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”She asked, looking excited even though she had no idea what they were really talking about.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll see.”Ian hedged, catching the way Mickey’s eyebrows knitted together.The future was not a good topic.Mickey was still working on the past and the present.He didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about the future yet.Ian put Frannie down and changed the subject to food, something Mickey liked talking about. “Smells amazing in here.What’s for dinner?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey kept cutting.“We’re barbecuing tonight.I’ve got skirt steak and chicken. Peppers, onions, zucchini and corn.Cornbread is in the oven.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yum.”Ian’s mouth watered.Mickey was good on a grill and the weather was perfect for it.“Let me go put my stuff down and change.I’ll be right back.”</p><p> </p><p>As Ian hefted his suitcase and made for the stairs Mickey called out, “Hey, Ian?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Mick?”Ian paused and looked back at the smaller man.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked up at him, then down, then back up.“Glad you’re home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Popped out before he could stop it, but he was surprised.Mickey had seemed perfectly content pretending Ian was a ghost in his own home most of the time.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged and mumbled, “Missed yah.”</p><p> </p><p>“I missed you too.”Ian said, struggling to make words he was smiling so hard.His insides had gone gooey with those words.Mickey missed him.God he missed Mickey too, so much.</p><p> </p><p>Clearly uncomfortable, Mickey changed the subject.“Anyway, dinner’s in about 30 minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cool.” Ian agreed, letting the brunette off the hook.It was enough to be missed.He didn’t need more than that. </p><p> </p><p>“Go...do whatever you gotta do.”Mickey said and Ian took his cue heading up the stairs feeling lighter than he had in a while. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t time yet, but it felt like a step in the right direction.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not sure who needs to hear this, but #blacklivesmatter.  </p><p>That doesn’t mean other lives matter less, it just means those of us who don’t have to fear for our lives every time we’re pulled over need to focus on the injustice being perpetrated against our black and brown sisters and brothers.  It is not right and it needs to stop here.  Now.  With us.</p><p>Peaceful protest is a right guaranteed to us by the 1st amendment.  Do not fall for the rhetoric that is lumping in the protesters with agitators who are looting and inciting violence.  They want the protests to be marketed on TV as riots.  Do not let them get away with it.  </p><p>Protest is how the unheard force people in power to listen.  This is how change happens.</p><p>Sorry for the soap box, but I just can’t.  Nine minutes sitting on a man’s neck, a woman shot dead in her own bed from a no-knock warrant served on the wrong home, a man shot dead for jogging while black and a man shot SEVEN times in the back for walking away and a white teenager armed to the teeth who shoots and kills 2 protestors is allowed to walk away (he was arrested later in another state)....If this doesn’t alarm you, if it doesn't anger you, if it doesn’t motivate you to ensure we change the system that allows this to happen, then you can fuck off, fuck off again and then keep fucking off until you WAKE THE FUCK UP.</p><p>If you think what’s happening now is Biden’s America - that’s some propaganda bullshit you swallowed whole.  Trump is the current president and this is his mess.  HIS MESS.  </p><p>180,000 people have died from COVID on his watch with no end in sight.  If that’s okay with you - go to hell.</p><p>If you care at all, please register to vote.  Please have a plan to make sure you are able to vote.  We have to be the change.  </p><p>No one will do it for us.</p><p>That is all.  Rant over.</p><p>Stay safe out there.  I’m going to try to avoid Twitter for a while, lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. He Works Hard for the Money</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Austin clapped Mickey on the back.“You’re fucking brilliant, you know that right?”</p><p> </p><p>Shying away from the touch, Mickey growled, “Bullshit.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, really.” Austin said, as they entered the club Kennedy had insisted they go to after court concluded for the day.“I Just never saw it like that before.  I mean lawyers tell you to simplify, but damn.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you don't have a rap sheet, Tex.”Mickey muttered, uncomfortable with the compliments.He did not think he’d done anything special. </p><p> </p><p>As far as Manhattan bars went the place was pretty nondescript.They found a booth and sat down.A cocktail server came and took their orders.Austin picked up where he had left off. “Mickey, I don’t see how that’s relevant.  I direct quoted you up there.I could not think of a better way to explain it than you did.”</p><p> </p><p>Austin had made them listen to his presentation of evidence at least ten times before he took the stand in court today.The first time he presented it Mickey was bored to tears and said so.They had found a very interesting money trail and Austin was leaving all the juicy bits out and going with bland, boring facts.Over the next nine recitations Mickey kept poking at it, dumbing it down until it made sense to the guy he used to be.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  Austin had presented evidence many times before, but this time he had done it differently and it had been successful. </span>Mickey shrugged.“This jury is mostly made up of my people.You know, low education, low information, high poverty and a fuck ton of white fragility.”</p><p> </p><p>Austin arched an eyebrow at him.“Well, whatever.It worked.They were eating out of my goddamn hands.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, regular folks don’t want a lot of technical detail.They don’t understand it and it makes them feel stupid so they shut down.You gotta find a simple way to explain complex stuff, spoon feed it to them with sound bites they can remember. When the defense starts questioning you, stick to your sound bites.”The cross examination would likely start Monday afternoon.  The lawyers had been really pleased with the performance today, which Mickey was encouraged by.  He was often uncomfortable in his job feeling like a square peg in a round hole, but seeing Austin succeed using his strategy - that felt good.</p><p> </p><p>“You are really good at this.”  Austin complimented.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged.“Where I come from, if you gotta explain something you have maybe a sentence to do it with.” </p><p> </p><p>“Why?”Kennedy asked, as their pitcher of beers arrived.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was usually pretty tight lipped about his roots.Everyone knew he had been to prison and why.They knew he had been exonerated.They knew he got his degree when he was there.None of that was easily hidden as it was all a matter of public record so he hadn’t tried.He just shrugged it off when anyone asked or made jokes about his misspent youth. </p><p> </p><p>These two were the closest things he had to friends, so telling them a little more about himself seemed like something he should do if he really wanted them to be friends.“My dad is a violent white nationalist, homophobic, misogynistic asshole.Most of my family is the same.I spent 24 years of my life just trying to not die, man.You learn some shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Kennedy blinked at him, reminding Mickey how incomprehensible his world had to be for people like them.They had never been in foster homes, gone hungry or lived out of a car.They didn’t go to sleep to the sound of gunshots and police sirens.Neither of them had ever walked so much as a single footstep in his shoes.  In a way, Mickey was glad for them. In another, he resented the hell out of the protected little bubble they got to grow up in and continue to occupy.</p><p> </p><p>Clearing his throat, Austin took a swallow of beer and then redirected the conversation back to court. “Well, next time I face a jury, I want you to remind me of all of that.Help me figure out how to present my case so the jury can relate to it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, whatever.”Mickey muttered, feeling judged.Every time he opened up even a little, he was reminded how different his life was. </p><p> </p><p>“No, man.” Austin replied, earnestness oozing from every pore. “I understand why Tom champions you.You have all the tools to be great at this.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey grunted, annoyed.He was getting by, sure, but he was nothing like any of his co-workers.They were lightyears beyond him. </p><p> </p><p>Austin shoved his shoulder, making Mickey almost drop his beer.“I’m serious.You do.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked at his team lead then back down at his beer.“Guess we’ll see, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, I want you on my team for every case.”Austin said, shoving his shoulder again.“I’m not kidding.You are on my team.”</p><p> </p><p>“Might wanna talk to Clive about that.” Mickey muttered because if his own fucked up past wasn’t enough to ruin it, the angry son of one of the firms partners might be.</p><p> </p><p>Kennedy piped up.“Maybe you shouldn’t have let your sister humiliate him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like I can control Mandy.She comes from the same place I do.Imagine being a girl in that shit.She’s tough as a bullet and just as deadly.”Mandy had flirted with Clive until dinner, smiling at him, laughing at his jokes, touching his arm every so often making him think she was into him.He talked her ear off, answering every question she asked him, which were many.She pumped him for information, later telling Mickey she had been digging up as much dirt as he would give her.She mined a few gems too. </p><p> </p><p>As Clive got more comfortable and more drunk he also got more handsy.Mandy let him touch her arms, her shoulders and even let him put an arm around her waist.Then he let his hand drift down onto her ass.</p><p> </p><p>She immediately slapped him away from her.</p><p> </p><p>Clive was shocked. His friends weren’t.One of them snorted.Another let out a laugh that sounded like a braying donkey.</p><p> </p><p>Clive’s face turned red and his lips pulled back showing his teeth as he hissed something at her.</p><p> </p><p>She brushed up on him, grabbing his junk and whispered something in his ear that made the blood drain from his face.</p><p> </p><p>She later told Mickey when she grabbed him, she had him by the balls, but that was all.He either had a micro penis or he was so fat his dick was an innie rather than an outie.</p><p> </p><p>Then she turned on heel and rejoined Mickey who had been talking to Cory Pratt, Clive’s father, at the time.Clive glared at her throughout dinner.Monday morning, he told Mickey to watch his back.Mickey assumed the fat asshole was plotting his revenge.</p><p> </p><p>“No shit.”Austin agreed.Mandy had also slapped him down pretty hard at the party the other night and his ego was clearly still smarting.“Your sister is something else.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you.”Mickey found it laughable someone like Clive thought he could intimidate someone like him.Mickey was a born fighter, tried and tested, molded by a lifetime of violence.There was only one circumstance in which a guy like Clive stood a chance and unfortunately, that was the circumstance they were in.“He’s gonna be a problem though.His dad listens to him.”</p><p> </p><p>Clive could seriously fuck up his job.</p><p> </p><p>Kennedy disagreed.“Yeah, but Tom adores you so I think you’re safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Guess it comes down to Jim.”Jim Wolfe was the third partner and someone Mickey interacted with only rarely.The man was hard to read so Mickey had no idea what Jim thought of him. </p><p> </p><p>“Clive drives Jim nuts.”Austin said.He would know, he had been at Wolfe, Pratt and Steves longest.“You’re okay.Just keep your head down.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can do that.”Mickey nodded.He didn’t have a choice.</p><p> </p><p>Austin clapped him on the back.“Good.”</p><p> </p><p>Kennedy changed the subject.“How’s Ian?”</p><p> </p><p>“Busy as fuck.”Mickey said.He had not seen much of the redhead lately.“New game launch you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“I pre-ordered it.Cannot wait to play it.Looks epic.”Kennedy replied, looking excited.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll see. Claymore certainly has high hopes for it.”Mickey was also looking forward to playing it.Ian had offered to let him beta test it, but Mickey had wanted to wait for the finished product.He didn’t want to be disappointed by glitches.He wanted to be awed by Ian’s creative vision and Garry’s incredible game play.</p><p> </p><p>“So do I.”</p><p> </p><p>They ordered another pitcher and got back to talking about the trial.Mickey had gone and watched other cases in court, but not one he had directly contributed to before.The prosecution would finish their case on Monday morning, so the defense would start in on him Monday after lunch.Austin and the lawyers would do a little more practice over the weekend, but none of them seemed particularly worried about it.</p><p> </p><p>“Austin, I need you to ignore the gays for a sec.”Kennedy suddenly said.He leaned over to Mickey and pointed.“Mickey, did you see what just walked in?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey followed Kennedy’s finger to the doorway.A group of guys had come in.One of them was young, blonde and immaculately groomed. “Ah, that guy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.Oh my god, he’s so hot.”Kennedy gushed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.”Mickey shrugged. The man was pretty in an obviously gay way.Mickey liked his men a little more subtle and a lot more ginger.</p><p> </p><p>“Top or bottom?”Kennedy asked and Austin choked on his beer.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stared at the blonde who was now surveying the room.A lot of times bottoms were easier to clock but Mickey wasn’t sure with this one so he hedged his bets.“Switch hitter.”</p><p> </p><p>Kennedy brushed his hair back, sitting up a little straighter.“For me.Do you think he’d top me?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had no idea what to do with this conversation.He didn’t do this, whatever this was.He wasn’t some gossipy queen who sat around talking about what other men did with their dicks.He had never thought of Kennedy as a player, though he had suspected the guy bottomed, so this was just fucking weird.Uncomfortable he snapped, “How the fuck should I know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Look at me.Not as a coworker, but as a man.Would you fuck me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, my god.Why am I still here?”Austin asked, making a face.His eyes were smiling though so Mickey didn’t take offense. </p><p> </p><p>“Why <em>are</em> you still here?” Kennedy asked dismissively before turning his attention entirely back on Mickey.He struck a pose and asked, “So, Mickey, would you fuck me?”</p><p> </p><p>“It puts the lotion in the basket.”Mickey muttered, feeling on the spot and resenting it.Who asked things like that?</p><p> </p><p>“What?”Kennedy asked, confused.</p><p> </p><p>“Never mind.”Mickey brushed aside the missed <em>Silence of the Lambs</em> reference and glared at Kennedy. “Not with someone else’s dick, but he might.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going for it.”Kennedy announced, getting up and buttoning his suit jacket closed.He ran his hand through his hair again and with a wink, set off toward the blonde at the bar.</p><p> </p><p>“What are the odds?”Austin asked as they watched Kennedy slip in next to the blonde.</p><p> </p><p>When Kennedy introduced himself, the blonde looked him over and seemed to decide Kennedy was worth a chat at least.Objectively, Kennedy was an attractive man. He had dark curly hair that was cut to style into thick waves.Mickey could admit he was jealous of Kennedy’s hair.Kennedy was taller than him, had nice shoulders and a little bit of fluff around the middle that made him seem cozy, like a comfortable sweater.He had boyfriend material written all over him which was probably why this episode felt so out of left field to Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>The blonde was the exact opposite.He was built like Ian, tall and slim, clearly athletic.He was groomed to perfection and his suit fit like a glove.His smile was wide and white and Mickey couldn’t help thinking this guy was a player, which in the upside down world that was tonight meant the guy was probably looking for a husband. </p><p> </p><p>He was paying attention to Kennedy though.Then the blonde did a twirl and jutted out his admittedly very nice ass making sure Kennedy appreciated it, before completing his circle and putting a hand on Kennedy’s arm.The invitation was clear as day to Mickey.“You see that?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”Austin asked.The flirting rituals of gay men were something he was clearly unfamiliar with.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey wasn’t super familiar either, but he knew an invitation when he saw it.“You saw what he did with his ass just now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”Austin said, uncertainly. </p><p> </p><p>“Guy’s a bottom.” Mickey said.There was no doubt in his mind after a move like that.That didn’t mean two preferential bottoms couldn't hook up though.Maybe they went for a hummer in the bathroom, maybe one of them was verse, maybe both of them were.Mickey didn’t care to know or care. </p><p> </p><p>“These are things I never thought I would know.”Austin told him looking a little weirded out.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey chuckled.He never thought he would know these things either. </p><p> </p><p>Austin was straight as an arrow.He looked like the classic all American frat boy. He was a big man, tall and thick, but not fat.He was jocular and confident and effortlessly masculine.He seemed to know he was physically powerful and potentially intimidating so he tried to compensate for it by being overly nice.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey liked him.Austin was open minded and big hearted, like a well educated, smart version of Kev.He didn’t know many straight men who would sit here and have this conversation without saying something to affirm their straightness in the face of so much gay.Mickey smiled. “Welcome to having gay friends.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just a little fluff since right now I am looking for joy anywhere I can find it. Figured if that’s how I’m feeling ya’ll probably need a light hearted moment too.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Coming Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey was drunk.He had not been this drunk in a while, not since his release party, but he was now and it wasn’t as pleasant as he remembered it. </p><p> </p><p>They had gone out to celebrate after winning their case. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had mixed feelings, which might be why he drank too much.Justice was served, but it wouldn’t put the money lost back in the victim’s pockets and sending a greedy old man to club fed didn’t seem sufficient on the one hand and on the other hand like a fate worse than death. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey stayed at the club drinking with the prosecutorial team until Kennedy came to tell them he was going home with another hook up he had just met.For a fluffy teddy bear of a man, Kennedy had game.He also got a lecture about being smart and safe at which point Mickey had enough.He excused himself and caught a cab back to Ian’s house.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey tried to be quiet once he got inside, taking off his shoes and tiptoeing up the stairs, but he tripped over a toy on the second floor landing. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”He growled, rubbing his foot before limping up the next two flights of stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie’s door was half open and he tiptoed up to it, peaking inside to make sure she was okay.She had a nightlight that cast the Milky Way galaxy on the ceiling and walls.She was curled up around a teddy bear facing the door with stars dancing across her cheeks.It was one of the sweetest things Mickey had ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>The innocence he saw on her face was so fragile and fleeting.He wanted to preserve it for as long as he could, but a lot of that was out of his control.</p><p> </p><p>Her parents sucked.</p><p> </p><p>Derek had run to Florida when he found out Debbie was pregnant.He graduated high school there and joined the Air Force where he was learning to be a flight mechanic.Mickey imagined he felt like he had dodged a bullet.</p><p> </p><p>Then Debbie got in trouble with DCFS and fucked his life up again.The military was alerted to the case and brought him back from deployment to work out the custody situation.Maybe that was a good thing, maybe it wasn’t.The guy sure never looked happy on the Skype calls.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey knew what it felt like to not want his kid. He knew what it felt like to be estranged from him, the awkwardness and guilt of reuniting with him and the joy of falling in love with him.He would do literally anything for Yevgeny, but it had not always been that way.</p><p> </p><p>Svetlana was an acquired taste, but Mickey didn’t hate her.She was no more at fault than he was and he could not blame her for trying to make the most of the pregnancy.In the end, she gave him Yevgeny which made it all worth it.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey wanted someone to say Frannie made it all worth it.He doubted Derek was going to do it.Debbie wasn’t giving him a reason to think she would either.</p><p> </p><p>She had still not moved to New York and no longer even paid lip service to the idea.She also had not started working the court appointed service plan, but at least she made it to the biweekly Skype visits.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sighed heavily. </p><p> </p><p>Frannie’s fifth birthday party was next weekend.Celia and Tonya were coming.Derek was supposed to come with them.It would be the first time father and daughter met face to face.</p><p> </p><p>The Gallaghers were coming back for it, of course, which meant Mickey would be moving back into Ian’s room for the weekend again.  He was in a better head space now than he had been last time so maybe it would be less weird.He hoped.</p><p> </p><p>The only redeeming feature he could see in it all was how excited Frannie was.</p><p> </p><p>He would suck it up for her.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey backed out of her room leaving the door cracked open and moved down the hall to his own.</p><p> </p><p>He flipped on the light.Sitting on his bed was a shipping box and a envelope.</p><p> </p><p>The letter was from Ian.He would know that handwriting anywhere.</p><p> </p><p>The box was from Dr. Peterson, the prison doctor who had kept him alive.</p><p> </p><p>Curious and not wanting to deal with whatever emotional shit Ian had likely written, he opened the box first.Inside under a folded piece of paper were the letters Ian had written to him in prison.</p><p> </p><p>So, that plan had backfired spectacularly. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey sat down and stared at the box for a moment, the folded piece of paper still in his hand.After a long moment he opened it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mickey,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I was cleaning out my office and found this box.I know you didn’t want them before, but maybe you do now.Anyway, they’re yours to do with as you will. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hope you are doing well,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dr. P</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had not thought about the letters since Ian had asked him about them months ago.He didn’t know where Dr. Peterson had gotten them or how the guy knew to send them here though he assumed he was in communication with Dr. Mohammed.They were friends after all.</p><p> </p><p>A lot had changed since the last time he had thought about Ian’s letters. </p><p> </p><p>Then he had been pissed because all of it had been too much.It had always been too much.Too much hope, too much love, too many obstacles, too much hurt. </p><p> </p><p>Things were different now though.He had a stable job and an actual support system for the first time in his life.He even had friends, which was new. He had always been surrounded by cousins and brothers in the past. </p><p> </p><p>He still had a lot to work through, but it was better than it had been.He had anxiety spikes sometimes, but they didn’t rise to the level of blind panic anymore.He had not taken an Ativan in weeks, even when he and Dr. Mohammed were talking about the ugliest parts of his history.He still carried the pill box around just in case, but so far so good even in group. </p><p> </p><p>That would change in two weeks, which was the deadline he had set for himself to finally share.He absolutely did not want to do it, had been avoiding it, but he understood why he needed to.Dr. Mohammed was right when he said things had stagnated.To make progress, Mickey had to share in group.That was going to take a fuck ton of Ativan to get through, but he was going to do it.He just wanted to get through Frannie’s party first.</p><p> </p><p>He put that out of his mind, not wanting to think about it until he had to. </p><p> </p><p>He looked at the letter on his bed and felt guilty Ian had resorted to writing him letters again.If this was the only way Ian felt like he could talk to him when they lived in the same house then Mickey was a huge asshole.</p><p> </p><p>They saw each other twice a day almost every day but didn’t really talk.They used Frannie as a conduit for communication which worked for Mickey in the beginning when just being in the same room with Ian had his skin prickling with anxiety.He wasn’t that nervous now. </p><p> </p><p>He still didn’t like it when Ian got too close or looked like he might touch him, but rather than panicking he now found himself trying to analyze why it made him uncomfortable and whether or not that feeling was valid.Ian was usually long gone by the time he decided he was being an idiot so rather than talk about it or do something to change it, it just kept happening.</p><p> </p><p>He stared at the box for a moment. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had never opened the letters because he knew Ian’s heart was in them and he had not been able to deal with it back then.He still couldn’t...probably.</p><p> </p><p>Jesus, he kind of wanted to read them now.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe just one or two.</p><p> </p><p>He got up and went back to the box. </p><p> </p><p>The letters were organized by postmark date.Ian had sent one a week starting in Mickey’s 13<sup>th</sup> month of incarceration.There were gaps in the dates from when Mickey had been in gen pop.He had torn up and flushed those.These were from the times he had been in medical.</p><p> </p><p>The first one was thin, like maybe there wasn’t anything in it.He opened it.Inside was a single sheet of paper that read, <em>Answer my damn letters!- Ian.</em></p><p> </p><p>The next one was a multi-page apology for the previous letter. </p><p> </p><p>Another listed all of the things Ian loved about him.Mickey couldn’t get past the first couple lines on the list so he set that one aside.</p><p> </p><p>The next one was basically porn.Ian described in graphic detail what their sex life felt like to him.Mickey didn’t get far on that one either.It was too much.</p><p> </p><p>Several letters later came a scorched earth scolding for cutting Ian out of his life.The next was another multi-page apology.</p><p> </p><p>Most of the letters were like journal entries.Some were long.Some were short.Most of them were just Ian telling Mickey about what was going on his life at the time.There was tons of info about Claymore and Yevgeny and some photos as well.</p><p> </p><p>Hours later, Mickey finally got to the last one.Ian had known he was getting out soon and had set up an account for him at a Chicago bank to help him get adjusted to life on the outside again. No strings attached.They didn’t have to reconnect.Ian just wanted to make sure he had the best chance possible at a good life.Ian said he owed him at least that much.Mickey wondered what had happened to that account since he was just now learning about it.</p><p> </p><p>Finished reading, Mickey noticed he had tears on his cheeks that he wiped away with a fist. </p><p> </p><p>Holy fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was glad he had not read the letters when he was in prison.They would have gutted him at a time when he could not take any more hits.He still wasn’t the picture of emotional health, but he was lightyears better than he had been.He could hear what Ian had been trying to tell him now.</p><p> </p><p>Ian may have acted selfishly.He might have faltered sometimes and outright failed others, but under it all, Ian loved him. </p><p> </p><p>He always had.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had never been able to truly accept it because who in their right mind would love a guy like him?He was nothing but a liability, but in spite of everything Ian was still there, still in love with him, still waiting for Mickey to figure himself out.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly Mickey needed to be where Ian was, so he jumped up and stumbled down to Ian’s room.The bedroom door still opened for him and that seemed like a metaphor.Mickey may have shut Ian out, but Ian was wide open, waiting for him to pull his head out of his ass and come back.</p><p> </p><p>Scraggles woke up and wagged his tail at Mickey but stayed in his warm spot by Ian’s feet.It was four in the morning so Ian was out cold and would be for another hour or two.</p><p> </p><p>“Mildred, turn on the bedside lights, dimmed to 15 percent.”</p><p> </p><p>They came on in a slow, warm bloom of light. </p><p> </p><p>Ian was shirtless, sleeping on his stomach toward the center of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sat beside him and ran a hand through Ian’s hair. </p><p> </p><p>“Jesus.”He muttered.This man.</p><p> </p><p>His hand drifted down from Ian’s hair to the orange and white koi fish tattooed on his shoulder.Ian said it was a cover up, but Mickey had no idea what was under it.It was very good work.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled his legs up on the bed and piled up some pillows so he could sit next to Ian for a little while.</p><p> </p><p>It was the closest they had been physically in a very long time and Ian was sleeping through it.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.”He said to Ian’s back and the words were accompanied by guilt. </p><p> </p><p>The ginger idiot didn’t deserve what Mickey was putting him through.</p><p> </p><p>He scooted down in the bed a little, breathing in Ian’s scent. </p><p> </p><p>His hand slid back up Ian’s neck into his hair.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey loved Ian’s hair.It was thick and curly which Mickey loved even if Ian hated it, and soft,so soft. </p><p> </p><p>Lately being this close to Ian had been distressing, but right now it was the most comfortable he had been in a very long time.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ian woke up with Mickey spooned against his back.</p><p> </p><p>He had no idea why Mickey was there, but he was over the moon that he was.</p><p> </p><p>He would usually be getting up now to go for his run and Scraggles was at the door waiting for him.They had a routine and the dog would not flex his schedule to accommodate Ian’s sudden desire to stay in bed.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing Scraggles would start scratching the door and whining if he didn’t let him out, but also not wanting to wake Mickey up Ian whispered, “Mildred, open the door.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snuggled in a little more against his back, but didn’t wake up when the lock clicked open and the dog ran out.The door closed and locked again.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie would be getting up soon too, but for as long as this lasted Ian was going to bask in the contact.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had stayed out with his work friends last night.Ian was glad he had people to hang out with, but could not help being jealous.Somehow whenever Mickey went out with other people it felt like a rejection. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey needed to have a life of his own, Ian knew that.He needed to build relationships with the people he worked with and hanging out with them was important.It was good that Mickey was making friends. </p><p> </p><p>Ian shouldn’t take it personally but it was hard not to. </p><p> </p><p>He understood Mickey’s need for space.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes he wished Frannie wasn’t with them because then Mickey would have moved out of the house entirely and Ian wouldn’t have to skulk around his own home like a ghost.Other times he was grateful his niece lived with them because he didn’t want to be apart from Mickey even if it hurt.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Brynner kept telling him to hold tight and give Mickey room because what she was hearing from Dr. Mohammed was encouraging.It was damn hard though and last night had been the worst night since Mickey had come to live with him. </p><p> </p><p>Ian had spent most of the evening debating asking Mickey to just move all the way out.It hurt too much to be held so far away when they were still so close. Waking up like this almost made up for it.</p><p> </p><p>Ian snuggled down a little and sighed as Mickey adjusted to him, still sleeping. </p><p> </p><p>He had started journaling again, more Dear Mickey letters like he had written back when Mickey was incarcerated.It was a way to vent his feelings without having to bore Dr. Brynner or assault Mickey with them.Unfortunately, the one he wrote last night he had left on Mickey’s bed.</p><p> </p><p>Ian suddenly wanted to run upstairs and retrieve it before Mickey had a chance to read it.He needed to go get it.Right now.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly he scooted away from Mickey, sad to lose the contact, but he didn’t really want Mickey to move out in spite of what the letter said.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know why Mickey was in his bed, but he smelled like a brewery and was still dressed in his work clothes from yesterday.He had probably just been drunk and on auto pilot.Nothing up to this point had indicated they were any closer to reconciliation so it was highly unlikely that was the motive. </p><p> </p><p>Once free of Mickey, he hopped out of bed and ran up the stairs.Mickey’s door was open and the bed was covered in paper.Ian picked up a page.</p><p> </p><p>Holy shit, they were the letters he had sent Mickey in prison.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had told him he never read them, that it had been pointless. </p><p> </p><p>Ian had thought Mickey destroyed them, but they must have been in the box that had been delivered yesterday.Ian had put it on Mickey’s bed with his hastily scribbled, very angry letter.He dug through the papers until he found it, still sealed, thank God.</p><p> </p><p>“Whatcha doin’?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian spun around to find Mickey standing in the doorway with Frannie.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I was...I needed to get this.”There was no point in lying.Mickey had him dead to rights.With a sigh and a grimace, he held up the letter.“It’s one of those act in haste, regret in leisure deals I was hoping to avoid, maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”Mickey folded his arms across his chest, the bed head and crumpled slept in clothes weakening what would otherwise be an intimidating stance.He consulted his sidekick.“Do we wanna let him get away with that, shortcake?”</p><p> </p><p>“He looks sneaky.”Frannie said, mimicking his stance and folding her arms too.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, he does.”Mickey agreed.Then he gestured toward all the paper on the bed and floor.“But you know, all those are letters he wrote to me too.You think we can let him take back one?”</p><p> </p><p>“No take backs.”She said frowning. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey was keeping a straight face, but there was something in his eyes that made Ian think he would be let off the hook.Looking at Frannie, Ian asked, “But if you made a mistake you would want people to let you make it right, right?”</p><p> </p><p>She looked behind and up to assess Mickey’s opinion.He looked down at her pokerfaced.She turned dark blue eyes on Ian and said, “I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“Besides, I doubt there’s anything in that one that isn’t in some of the other ones.”Mickey added with an arched eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>Ian grimaced.Some of the letters he had sent Mickey had been scathing.He sent them hoping maybe making Mickey mad would make him communicate.It hadn’t worked then and it would be counter productive now.He looked Mickey dead in the eye.“Probably not.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded, pokerface still firmly in place, but for that light in his eyes.“I say we let him keep it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t want it?”Frannie asked, looking up at him again.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s pokerface cracked into a smile.“Nah.I think me and Ian need a reset.This is as good an excuse as any.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Frannie uncrossed her arms and shrugged.“Can we have pancakes?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s eyes were locked on Mickey’s.God, he wanted a reset.More than anything.There was such a light in Mickey’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Without looking away, Mickey answered Frannie.“No.We’re having cheesy eggs.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yuck.”She complained.</p><p> </p><p>“Ian likes them.”Mickey said, eyes still on Ian. </p><p> </p><p>“Ian likes pancakes, too.”Frannie tried.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, I’m making cheesy eggs.You go get dressed.”Mickey told Frannie.Then to Ian he said, “Go run.I’ll have it ready when you get back.”</p><p> </p><p>There were tears forming, but Ian blinked them back and started toward the door Mickey was standing in the middle of. </p><p> </p><p>The shorter man didn’t move.</p><p> </p><p>“Keeping me captive?”Ian asked, half joking.He wasn’t going to touch or push past the smaller man but he did want to escape before Mickey changed his mind about the letter.</p><p> </p><p>“Holding you hostage, yeah.” </p><p> </p><p>The light in his eyes and the fact he didn’t turn away encouraged Ian to tease, “So what are you gonna do with me now that you’ve got me?”</p><p> </p><p>The light in Mickey’s eyes flickered.</p><p> </p><p>It was too much.Ian felt like kicking himself.Why did he <em>always</em> have to push?</p><p> </p><p>Mickey reached up and patted his cheek.“Go run.I’ll make breakfast.We can talk later.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.” Ian agreed feeling deflated, like he had poked a hole in a bubble of hope.Granted, it was the first time Mickey had voluntarily touched him in weeks, but it still seemed like he had ruined the moment. </p><p> </p><p>When he got back from his run Mickey was flopping out an omelet onto a plate and Frannie was already dressed.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s hair was damp and he was dressed in jeans and a hoody.The jeans hugged his ass and the hoody was tight across the chest and arms.Mickey looked amazing and Ian wanted to maul him, but resisted.Clearly something had changed, but how much and for how long Ian didn’t know.He couldn’t know because Mickey probably didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>Noticing Ian looking at his clothes, Mickey explained, “Nothing fits.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Ian accepted the plate and bit down on an offer to rearrange his schedule so they could spend the day together.He didn’t want to push it.They were talking again. That was enough.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey leaned on the counter and plowed his way through the first egg white omelet Ian had ever seen him eat. Mickey was pretty much back at his normal weight, so maybe he was switching to maintenance mode now. He glanced up at Ian.“You got plans today?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope.”Ian was immediately on his phone, texting the friends he had planned to go sailing with that he wasn't coming.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>This was not how Mickey had envisioned this morning, but he wasn’t going to complain. </p><p> </p><p>Walking Frannie to daycare together was nice.She had complained about going on a Saturday, but when they told her they were all going to walk there together she changed her tune.She was extra happy, holding both their hands and insisting they swing her in the air multiple times.Even Scraggles seemed to have an added spring in his step.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had thought he and Ian had done a pretty good job hiding what was going on between them from Frannie, but it was clear from how she was acting now she had known there was a problem.</p><p> </p><p>Growing up in a house with Frank in and out and a mother like Debbie, who’s moods sometimes seemed more labile than Ian’s, Frannie had probably learned really early how to read a room.Mickey understood that.He had been the same.In the Milkovich house, staying aware of which way the wind was blowing was a survival skill.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was buzzing with nervous energy and Mickey wanted to tell him to chill out, but at the same time didn't want to take away from Frannie’s happiness or really start talking until they were alone. </p><p> </p><p>“See you tonight, ginger snap.”Mickey waved good bye to Frannie as she paused to look back at them when she reached the bright teal door of her daycare.She smiled a huge toothy grin at them and then let the teacher at the door guide her inside.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s happier than usual.”Ian observed as they turned around and started the three block walk back to the house.</p><p> </p><p>“Kids are more perceptive than we give them credit for.”Mickey said, still thinking about the inborn instinct for self preservation.</p><p> </p><p>She was starting kindergarten on Monday.Mickey had never thought she would still be with them after so long.Several of her friends from daycare would also be in her class so that was good.Yevgeny would be starting first grade at the same school.He had volunteered to look out for her, which made Mickey proud as hell of his son.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian agreed.They walked a little more and then awkwardly he said, “So, we’re talking again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Guess so.”Mickey agreed, glancing up at the nervous fool walking next to him. </p><p> </p><p>There were butterflies in his belly too, but it wasn’t anxiety.He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he wanted to hang out with Ian.It had been a long time since they had spent any time together.“Thanks for putting up with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d do anything for you.”Ian said, grinning like an idiot.</p><p> </p><p>“Then you’ll go shopping with me?”Mickey asked. </p><p> </p><p>“Shopping?”Ian parroted, looking confused.</p><p> </p><p>As much as he did not want to, there was no avoiding it anymore.He had exactly one pair of jeans and two tee shirts that still sort of fit.Everything else was uncomfortably tight.He couldn’t button his suit jackets anymore.Even Tom had noticed, suggesting Mickey might want to upgrade his wardrobe.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that’s my big plan for today.”Maybe if Ian came it would be a minor step up from the seventh circle of hell.Since Mandy couldn’t come with him to pick stuff out (and mercilessly tease him), he had taken her advice instead.“I have an appointment with Mandy’s friend what’s her name at 10.None of my clothes fit anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“You look fucking fantastic.”Ian said, eyeing him appreciatively.</p><p> </p><p>“Not complaining, just gotta to have some new duds.”Mickey said, trying to cover his discomfort at the compliment.He was spending a lot of time in the gym trying to get his strength back.He was within five pounds of his pre-prison weight which had been just a little too doughy around the middle.Right now he could still see his abs and the scar zippering up between them was flat. If he gained more weight it would get even uglier.</p><p> </p><p>This was his fighting weight so it was time to start building a real wardrobe, even if he really didn't want to go to the hassle.He had shop lifted clothes many times but only shopped for clothes once.When he first got out of prison Mandy had dragged him through several stores and spent way too much money setting him up with the basics.It was so uncomfortable to spend money on something that wasn’t food or shelter or protection money, even now he couldn’t quite deal with the idea so he still told himself, “I fucking hate shopping.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled at him, clearly seeing something Mickey didn't want him to see. He looked for all the world like the goofy ginger kid Mickey remembered from little league.“I’m not super fond of it either, but my job sort of forces me to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Poor you.” Mickey snorted, unable to to conjure sympathy for a multimillionaire.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck off, Mickey.”Ian chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>They were crossing the street onto their block.“So you gonna come or what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”Ian agreed easily.“Does this mean you’ve had enough space now?” </p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, not sure.I’m still working through some shit, but I think I’m on the downslope now.”Mickey said.Dr. Mohammed had told him he would know when it was time to try again.Now he knew.It was time.“It’s no bed of roses, but it’s better.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian paused at the door waiting for the lock to click open.“I’m not expecting anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“You stuck with me this time.”He still marveled Ian was a hanging in for this.It was way worse than it had been when they were kids.At least back then they’d had sex to bridge over the bad things.Now, there was no reason for Ian to stick around unless he really wanted to.</p><p> </p><p>Ian turned to face him, green eyes glittering with earnestness.“Like I should have done every time.I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey met Ian’s eyes for a second but then had to turn away. “You could do so much better.”</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” Ian admonished.</p><p> </p><p>A wellspring of feelings bubbled up inside Mickey.Ian had been the single biggest gamble of his life.Ian was so many firsts, so many onlys.Ian was the first man he had sex with.He was the first person Mickey had ever trusted, the first he had ever loved.Through those things he had started learning to accept himself.</p><p> </p><p>He had been angry, hurt and fearful with one foot out the door since they reunited.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was still bipolar.That wasn’t going to change, but how Ian managed it had.Ian had royally fucked up, but once he realized it, he had moved mountains to make it right.The letters proved it.Mickey could not articulate how much knowing that meant to him.Not easily anyway.“No one...You are the only person who...damn it, I fucking love you, too.” </p><p> </p><p>Ian’s face split in a huge grin and Mickey could see how hard the ginger idiot was struggling to not hug him.Jesus, it was pathetic, but he couldn’t.Not yet, but he had to give the redhead something. He held out a hand and Ian took it.It was okay.He squeezed. </p><p> </p><p>Ian’s voice caught when he said, “I don’t deserve you.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you really don’t.”Mickey agreed.They were holding hands for fuck sake.It was the best he could give the man who loved him and it was absolutely pathetic.“No idea why you’d settle for my ass.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian pulled him forward a little, took his other hand and stared down at him, green gaze intense.“Are you kidding me?I’m <em>fighting</em> for your ass.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know you are.”Mickey agreed, mystified that after everything Ian was still there, still waiting. He let go to rub at his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Ian squeezed the hand he was still holding and changed the subject.“Is shopping the only thing you have planned today?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had always appreciated how Ian would do that.He somehow knew when Mickey had reached his warm and fuzzy limit and would shift gears before things got too sappy to tolerate.“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Progress!</p><p>And next - shopping!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Shopping and other Horrors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There is mention of rape in this chapter - not Mickey’s - someone from group.  That section is clearly marked so it can be skipped if you need to.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Bella was a cute Black 20 something with fantastic curls and a glorious sense of style.Ian adored her on sight.Mickey, not so much.Mickey had to warm up to people.Slowly.Ian would argue, painfully.</p><p> </p><p>It was probably the weirdness of hanging out together combined with realizing Bella was a personal stylist, not just a sales girl friend of Mandy’s who would follow him around and make suggestions.</p><p> </p><p>She took them straight back to a fancy dressing room where she had already picked out several items based on the size information Mickey had given her and Mandy’s description of what looked good on him.It was a cool pallet of blues, grays and blacks with some pops of red and violet which Mickey immediately vetoed in spite of Ian telling him purple would look great on him.</p><p> </p><p>After some grumbling, Mickey was trying things on in the dressing room.He was supposed to be coming out to the little sitting area Ian was waiting in so Ian and Bella could help him choose what looked best on him.So far Mickey had vetoed everything he had tried on without letting either of them see it except for a single shirt that was the exact same color and style as the only button up shirt he could still squeeze into.</p><p> </p><p>“The fuck is with all this tight shit?”Mickey complained for at least the tenth time.</p><p> </p><p>“Suits aren’t supposed to fit like cargos, Mick.”Ian deadpanned.Like him, Mickey had spent most of his life in hand-me-down clothes.For Ian that had meant everything was a little too tight and a little (sometimes a lot) too short.For Mickey that had meant his clothes were always way too big.He was so used to it, he preferred it.“If you would come out here in something maybe Bella could get an idea of what you don’t like so she can find you different sizes or stuff that fits you better.”</p><p> </p><p>“These are too damn tight.”Mickey growled as he came out of the dressing room in a pair of ill fitting pants.They were all kinds of tight around the crotch, ass and thighs.</p><p> </p><p>Bella smiled.“Let me get one size up and I think that might do it.Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever.”Mickey scowled at her back as she walked away.</p><p> </p><p>“You could try being nice to her.She’s just doing her job.” Ian reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes and turned a circle in front of the mirror.“Ever wish you worked construction or something?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just to avoid wearing suits?No.”Ian rolled his eyes at the unnecessary drama.He understood it though.This had to be horribly uncomfortable for Mickey.For what might be the first time ever, he was spending money on himself and for something that wasn’t a baseline need like food or shelter.It had to feel frivolous and selfish and weird.</p><p> </p><p>Bella came back with another pair of pants and held them out to Mickey.“Try these.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey disappeared back into the dressing room and they waited.And waited.Annoyed, Ian asked loudly, “Mickey?You get lost in there?Come out here and show us.”</p><p> </p><p>The door opened and Mickey stepped out in the ice blue shirt he liked (that looked just like his other ice blue shirt) and the up sized pants.They fit perfectly other than being a little long.Bella agreed.“I like those on you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, me, too.Your ass looks fucking amazing.”Ian agreed, immediately wishing he could take it back.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey gave him the finger to hide the blotchy red creeping up his neck to his cheeks.Mickey never responded well to compliments, but it didn’t seem to freak him out like Ian had expected.He was grateful for that at least.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you like how this shirt fits?”Bella asked coming up next to Mickey and tugging at a sleeve.They were a little long but not so bad they needed tailoring, at least in Ian’s opinion.Ian had the opposite problem where the arms were always too short.He’d given up trying to buy off the rack and just had Adolfo make his shirts now.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Mickey said, pulling away from her with arched eyebrows and a glare.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.Perfect.This helps.”Bella smiled at him and to Ian she looked relieved.“Let me go pick some more things.I’ll be right back.Would you like something to drink while you wait?”</p><p> </p><p>“Got coffee?”Mickey asked, scratching at the back of his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have someone come take your order.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sat down on the couch on the opposite arm from Ian.His knee was bouncing.</p><p> </p><p>Ian remembered Mandy telling him about Mickey’s first real shopping trip when he had first gotten out of prison.They had gone to Old Navy and the Men’s Warehouse where Mickey had pitched a fit over how much she spent, but it had to be done.He had come to New York with nothing but the clothes on his back and a few dollars in his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>She had described it as a nightmare she hoped to never repeat.Ian figured this had to be a step up from that, but it wasn’t fun.Mickey was not the same guy he had been when he first got out of prison though.He had lived an entirely different life between then and now.His version of normal had changed though it could be argued he had moved from one extreme to the other like a pendulum.</p><p> </p><p>Ian remembered vividly how that shift felt. </p><p> </p><p>The first time he really shopped for himself was at the insistence of Mandy and Svetlana since he needed to start looking like the success Claymore was becoming.He had almost choked on the bill even though he could easily afford it by then. </p><p> </p><p>It had taken months to start feeling like he wasn’t playing dress up in someone else’s clothes.It had to be at least that weird to Mickey, probably worse.“What all are you planning to get?”</p><p> </p><p>“Need damn near everything except shoes, socks and ties.Even that coat from the funeral is too small now.”Mickey shrugged, looking uncomfortable, knee still bouncing.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey never said it, but Ian knew he had loved how he looked at Frank’s funeral.He had worn those clothes like a suit of armor, newly knighted and proud as hell of himself.As a result, Ian also loved the black suit and overcoat.“Adolfo knew you were underweight for the coat and the black suit.He can probably tailor those if you really like them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”Mickey asked, looking relieved.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian lied, well aware Adolfo would have to remake them.The suit had been tailored to perfection and Mickey was at least two sizes bigger than he had been at the funeral.Mickey didn’t need to know that though.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stood up and stretched, and it occurred to Ian that though he looked like he had recovered, he probably lived with chronic pain.Mickey would never admit it though, not wanting to appear weak.It wasn’t like Ian could help anyway.Trying not to think about it, Ian’s gaze focused on Mickey’s ass.He had an amazing ass.“Those pants fit you perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re kinda tight.”Mickey said, tugging at a pant leg.</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes and muttered, “In all the right places.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s eyebrows shot up and then furled down.“Yeah, I know what you thinking.You wrote a three page ode to my ass.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did I really?I forgot what all I wrote you.”Ian had written all sorts of things to Mickey trying to get a reaction, any reaction, out of the brunette.In large part, those letters were like journal entries, stream of consciousness attempts to tell Mickey all the things he had never had words for before.He wondered what reading them now after all that had passed between them had felt like.Since Mickey was suddenly talking to him again, the effect had to have been good.“I thought you flushed the letters.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Mickey could answer a women wearing an apron from Rowland’s came and took their order for coffee.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as she left, Mickey sat down again this time in a chair across from Ian.He looked at his hands, thumb running over the remnants of FUCK in a rhythmic pattern.“I did flush a lot of them.Can’t have people finding that shit in gen pop, but when I was in medical, I guess Peterson kept them.He’s the one who sent them to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad he did.”Ian owed Dr. Peterson a huge thank you.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Me too.”Mickey agreed glancing up at him before he bounced back to his feet in time for Bella and another man to enter the room with an arm load of clothes.</p><p> </p><p>Bella started hanging her selections on a rack, telling the man with her, “John, you can take all of that away.” </p><p> </p><p>John collected all the clothes Mickey had rejected and left the room.Bella took a suit off the rack and put it in the dressing room.As she stepped out she smiled at Mickey and said, “Let’s try this again.”</p><p> </p><p>When the brunette hesitated, Ian teased, “Go on, Zoolander.Model me some shit.”</p><p> </p><p>That earned him double birds, but Mickey went into the dressing room and Ian took a moment to show Bella a photo of Mickey in the black suit so she would have a better idea what Mickey liked, which was basically 1930’s gangster with a hint of 1950’s rock-a-billy.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They had lunch at Rowland’s and then went back for round three.Mickey had a huge assortment of items he had not immediately discarded so it became a process of whittling down to the things he liked best while sticking to his budget.</p><p> </p><p>It shocked Ian to learn Mickey intended to drop a grand on clothes.He got it, in a way, since Mickey needed everything and had the sort of job where he had to look respectable.Mickey had gotten back all of his rent money from Mandy for the months he had not lived in her apartment and his expenses were virtually nonexistent living at Ian’s house, but it was way more than Ian would have expected Mickey to spend on something the shorter man had never viewed as important before.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was dying to just buy everything Mickey liked, but held himself in check.Mickey would resent the offer and Ian didn’t want to undo the progress they’d made.</p><p> </p><p>Bella had done a great job picking mainly from the sale racks making Mickey’s budget stretch much further than Ian thought a grand could go in a store like Macy’s.The tailor came in and marked up some alterations while Ian made an excuse about the bathroom to go find Bella and tip the hell out of her for putting up with them. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey griped about spending so much on clothes, wondered out loud if he should have just gone to Men’s Warehouse or something, but rather than put it all back like Ian thought for a minute he would, Mickey forked over slightly more than $1,000 muttering something about ‘clothes maketh man’. </p><p> </p><p>They returned to the house laden with shopping bags and Ian helped him carry them up to his room and then left Mickey to organize as he saw fit.</p><p> </p><p>He went downstairs and plopped down on the couch in the living room to check his email and make sure nothing had gone off the rails while he had been out shopping.Scraggles came and curled up next to him so Ian could scratch behind his ears.</p><p> </p><p>When Mickey finally came back downstairs it was almost time to go get Frannie.Ian asked, “Do you want to order in?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I’ll cook.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go get the kid then.”Ian got up and called the dog over.He harnessed up Scraggles to go get their foster daughter.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Frannie frowned when it was only Ian who picked her up.“Where’s Mickey?”</p><p> </p><p>“At home, making dinner like he usually does.”Ian reminded her.Ian was always the one who picked her up in the evenings so Mickey could cook.This was not new.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.Okay.”She bent down and scratched Scraggles behind the ears.</p><p> </p><p>“Ready to go?”Ian asked, because the faster they got home, the more time Frannie would have with Mickey before he left for group.She would be in bed when he got home. </p><p> </p><p>“Yep.”She agreed taking his hand and leading the way down the stairs to the sidewalk.“Is my party tomorrow?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s next weekend.”Ian reminded her.</p><p> </p><p>“But my mom comes tomorrow, right?”She looked up at him with soulful deep blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“No, on Friday.She’ll be here when you get back from school.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,”Frannie agreed, swinging their joined hands as high as they would go.</p><p> </p><p>“The rest of the family will be here, too.”Ian told her.The Balls and all the Gallaghers except Carl would be flying in together.They had not talked about it, but Ian assumed Mickey would be moving into his room again while his family was staying with them.</p><p> </p><p>“My mommy can’t stay though.”Frannie said softly.</p><p> </p><p>God, the parting at his birthday had been awful.Debbie had held herself together so well she almost seemed indifferent and Frannie had been inconsolable.She went to school the next day with another round of cupcakes from Mickey where she got in trouble for pulling a little girl’s hair.When he picked her up he had to meet with an administrator to talk about it.Ian had explained the situation and been given some advice about how to talk about it with her when they got home.It took a couple days, but she got back to normal. </p><p> </p><p>Ian was not looking forward to going through that again, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.Debbie was coming for her party and then going back to Chicago.“No, Frannie, she can’t.She has to go back to Chicago, but at least she’ll be here for your party and you can introduce her to all your friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s good I guess.”Frannie muttered, not looking happy.</p><p> </p><p>“You guess?” He knew she had to be disappointed it was only a visit, but had assumed she would love telling her friends about her mother.</p><p> </p><p>“My friends think I have two daddies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Ian breathed, not expecting that.It felt like a gut punch.</p><p> </p><p>“Cause they <em>see</em> you.”She elaborated.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotcha.”Ian nodded.That made sense.Either he or Mickey dropped her off and picked her up every day.Mickey made cupcakes twice for her to take to her classmates.Ian had participated as a reader for story time a few times.To the casual observer it would definitely appear she had two dads.</p><p> </p><p>“Are those other people gonna be here, too?”Frannie changed the subject with a scowl.</p><p> </p><p>“The Delgados?”</p><p> </p><p>Frannie nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, they’re coming, too.”Ian told her.It was becoming more of a struggle to get Frannie to sit still for the Delgado Skype calls.She didn’t know them and appeared not to want to know them.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t like them.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re your family.”Ian reminded her.He got why she didn’t like them.Her grandmother and aunt were aggressively eager and her father was mostly silent and standoffish, like he didn’t want to be there.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t choose them.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had talked about something similar with Yevgeny at the funeral when he was trying to explain the Milkoviches.“Remember how Mickey says there is the family you’re born with and the family you choose?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t choose them.”She repeated as she started trudging up the stairs to their front door.</p><p> </p><p>The latch clicked and Ian held the door open for her.“You were born with them though so even if you don’t choose them, they’re still technically your family.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t even know them.”She shrugged off her jacket and started up the stairs with Ian right behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“They want to know you.”Ian reminded her.His own bio-father had not wanted anything to do with him until he got rich.Then all of a sudden Clayton Gallagher became a very proud father with his hand out.Years later Ian was still angry about it.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care.”Frannie griped as she hit the second floor landing.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you’ll like them more when you meet them in person.”Ian tried.There was no way in hell he would allow them to take Frannie if Debbie didn’t get her act together, but at the same time Ian didn’t want to completely cut them out either.Someday Frannie would want to know them.</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t.”She refused to acknowledge the possibility.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”There was no point arguing with her, Ian decided, as they walked into the kitchen where Mickey was working.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you two talking about?”He asked, noticing Frannie’s scowl.</p><p> </p><p>“My father is coming to my party.I don’t want him to.”She and Mickey had had multiple conversations about the difference between fathers, dads and uncles.Ian sort of wished they hadn’t.Frannie’s relationship with her father was unlikely to be anything like Mickey’s relationship with Terry.Ian didn’t want her to ostracize the Delgados just because Mickey hated his own father.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.Well, that’s family.”Mickey shrugged.“They never do what you want ‘em to.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you said people can choose their family.”She whined as she hopped up on what had been Ian’s stool but was now clearly hers.</p><p> </p><p>“When you get older, yeah, you can.You will.But you’re not even five yet, so for now you’re stuck with the hand you were dealt, kiddo.”Mickey told her as he stirred the very yummy smelling contents of the pot on the stove.</p><p> </p><p>“What does that mean?”Frannie asked, because why would she know a poker reference?</p><p> </p><p>“You know how when you play cards someone gives them to you, one at a time?That’s called dealing cards.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded.They played Uno with her and Yev sometimes on Sundays.</p><p> </p><p>“When you get all your cards that’s called a hand.”Mickey explained.“So, you play the hand you were dealt, get it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.So I don’t get to pick my cards yet?”She asked, because she was smart as hell and Ian was proud as fuck of her.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p> </p><p>“When do I get to pick my family?”</p><p> </p><p>“You gotta finish school first.”Mickey told her going to the rice cooker with a bowl.</p><p> </p><p>“Winter break?”She asked. Of course she knew when school got out.Every kid on earth knew when school breaks were.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey smirked and shook his head as he went back to the pot on the stove and ladled out whatever yummy smelling thing he had made onto the bowl of rice.“No, like when you’re done with high school. You have 13 years to go, basically.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a really long time!”She exclaimed angrily.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey agreed as he put the bowl in front of her. “Eat your dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?”She asked, staring at it.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s chicken gumbo.”Mickey told her and then elaborated a little more.He would usually tell her where the food came from and sometimes a little about the culture that created it.“It’s Cajun food from New Orleans.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s in it?”Frannie asked, pushing her spoon in suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>“Chicken, bell pepper, celery, onion and a boat load of spices over rice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”She picked up a tiny bite.Mickey didn’t make her eat things she didn’t like, but he insisted she try everything.She delicately tried it and then a smile spread across her face and she tucked in with a huge spoonful. “This is good!”</p><p> </p><p>“Have I ever made something you didn’t like?”Mickey asked with an arched eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>Ian couldn’t help pointing out that, yes, Mickey had.“There was that...”</p><p> </p><p>“One F-ing time, Ian.”Mickey cut him off, glaring at him.None of them had liked the chowder he had tried a couple weeks back.It had two types of clams that Mickey had over cooked and turned into rubber so tough it could not be chewed through.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie laughed at them.“Clams!”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes and then took off his apron.“Whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was late Thursday night and Mickey still wasn’t back.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was on the couch trying to keep his eyes open since it was getting near his witching hour.</p><p>He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to try and stay awake until Mickey got home from group, but something told him he needed to so he was waiting, but if Mickey didn’t come back soon he wouldn’t make it.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe this wasn’t the best plan.It had only been a few days since Mickey had stopped ignoring him.It was still hit or miss, Mickey seeming open and friendly one minute and closed off and cold the next, but it was progress. </p><p> </p><p>At 11:30 Ian heard the front door open and Mickey climbing the stairs.He paused on the landing checking to see why the second floor lights were still on. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?”Ian asked, sitting up a little straighter.Body language alone told him Mickey was anything but okay.</p><p> </p><p>“Thought you’d be sleeping.”Mickey muttered, looking like he was trying to decide if he wanted to join him in the living room or avoid him until morning.</p><p> </p><p>Finally Mickey sighed and walked into the living room, flopping down on the opposite end of the couch. “One of the trans guys in group killed himself.ODed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my God.Are you sure it was suicide?”Ian breathed, a hand coming up covering his mouth.Mickey did not talk about group other than to say he hated it.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, he left a note.Fucked up, huh?We went out and had a few.Sort of a memorial I guess.”Mickey said, rubbing at the FUCK remnants on the back of his knuckles.</p><p> </p><p>“I get it.”Ian agreed, saddened by the news.Trevor had helped him understand what trans people went through. They were entirely too vulnerable and unsupported.Even in the gay community they were often pushed to the fringes.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude was totally estranged from his family ‘cause he was trans and they’re religious, not many friends since he sort of walled himself off after, you know?”Mickey said, scrunching down into the couch and putting his feet on the coffee table like he planned to stay and talk about it. </p><p> </p><p>“I can imagine.”Ian muttered.It was terrible.Rape was isolating.For the already ostracized, that isolation could be crushing.</p><p> </p><p>“They found his body because a neighbor complained about the smell.He probably did it right after group last week.I mean...fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian shuddered. “That’s horrible.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***SOME RAPE DETAILS DISCUSSED HERE - SCROLL DOWN IF NEEDED***SAFE TO RESUME IS ALSO MARKED***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey swept a hand through his hair and glanced at Ian. “Rape fucking sucks, but his rapist talked to him and fucked him like a chick.I mean, having your personhood violated, too?That’s all kinds of fucked up.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian nodded, surprised Mickey was capable of understanding the deeper issues for a transgender man.Mickey had grown up homophobic and could still be very snarky about gay men who were too “obvious” for Mickey’s tastes.Gender issues had never really come up as a topic of conversation but Ian wouldn’t have imagined Mickey would be very tolerant. Not to mention, his gooey center was reserved for people in his inner circle.Everyone else was held at arms length and cut no slack at all.Mickey must have liked this person to have so much empathy for him. </p><p> </p><p>“Ricky, the guy who died, said they dated back in his freshman year. Like a last ditch effort to be who other people wanted before he transitioned.He always talked about the guy sorta weird.Like Ricky was the guilty one for fucking up his rapist’s life, you know?It had something to do with church.Like Ricky’s gender identity was so traumatic to this guy’s ego or masculinity or whatever that raping him was his way of coping or something.It was some seriously fucked up shit.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***SHOULD BE SAFE TO RESUME HERE***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ian could not imagine.“Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.It’s just we all thought he was getting better, but really he was getting ready to peace out.”Mickey continued, “I guess some people just can’t live with it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do I need to worry about you?”Ian asked, because there was something in Mickey’s tone that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, man.I’m not offing myself.I wouldn’t do that to the kids or you.”Mickey denied.“I think once we get back to normal, I’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>So he wasn’t out of the woods yet.Ian promised himself he would remember not to push Mickey too hard.They were partners, 50/50.As much to remind himself as to reassure Mickey he said, “No pressure though, okay?We go at your pace.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.“Damn right we do.”</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.”Ian replied through a yawn. Fuck his bipolar and the pills that turned him into a zombie at midnight.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stood up and held out a hand to Ian.“Time for lights out, Sleeping Beauty.Come on.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ruth Bader Ginsberg has died.  She fought for us through metastatic pancreatic cancer.  She gave her entire life for us. Her family sacrificed their final moments with her for us.  We owe it to her to be as passionate about this country, the constitution and the rule of law as she was.</p><p>If you feel like there’s no point in voting because all is now lost - get over it.  </p><p>It is only lost if we don’t vote.</p><p>If you care about women’s rights, women’s reproductive health/autonomy, racial justice, LGBTQ rights or religious freedom (for all of us who aren’t evangelical Christians) you will vote like your future depends on it.  It does.</p><p>VOTE!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Family Sucks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey woke up with a gasp.The nightmare was already fading, leaving him feeling uneasy but not knowing why.He glanced over to the other side of the bed only to realize he was alone in his fourth floor bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey knew he was lucky.Group had ten members, nine now, and he was the only one with a partner who was hanging strong.Two were going through divorces, one had lost a long term girlfriend and the rest were already divorced or single and had been for a long time. Some fucked around like crazy.Some were virtual shut ins.None of them had what Mickey had in Ian. </p><p> </p><p>If Ian had not come back into Mickey’s life when he had, Mickey was pretty sure he would be dead by now. </p><p> </p><p>A legit job, a new apartment and a chance at a new life would not have been enough.They were nice, but could not fill the holes life had stabbed into him.He would have done what he always did, ignoring the pain for as long as he could, but stuff like this wasn’t really ignorable.What had happened to him wasn’t something he could run away from.</p><p> </p><p>Ricky was case and point. </p><p> </p><p>It had seemed like he was getting better.He had become more open, sharing opinions and talking more about his own situation.He had been living on disability due to PTSD but had started talking about trying to go back to work as a graphic designer. </p><p> </p><p>It just made no sense that all of that was a precursor to suicide. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey remembered thinking transsexuals were the most disgusting people on the planet.His dad hated them more than he hated the Jews, Blacks, Latinos, Muslims or the gays. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had grown up believing those things too.It was different for him, though.He had secrets of his own to deny and the terrible anger he felt at himself he took out on other people.</p><p> </p><p>Now that he actually knew someone who was trans, he understood a lot of his anger had been misdirected jealousy.They had the balls to be who they were when he had not. </p><p> </p><p>Knowing what he knew now, no one <em>chose</em> to be trans.The amount of effort it took to transform their bodies to reflect on the outside what was true on the inside, no one chose that.The backlash from family and friends who had grown up with one gender and now had to adapt to another, no one chose that either.The legalities of changing gender assignment were daunting, but they did it.If they didn’t easily pass, their job options were limited and even if they did pass there was always the chance they would get outted and then lose their job anyway.They had to deal with people like he used to be.Absolutely no one chose all that shit.</p><p> </p><p>Even in group, their supposed safe place, Ricky’s situation had a feeling of ‘other’ about it, at least to Mickey.Sympathy came easily, but being able to empathize or truly understand the complexities of Ricky’s life was beyond him.He hoped his questions or suggestions had not played a part in Ricky’s despair, but feared they had.</p><p> </p><p>The guilt was a heavy blanket over his mood.</p><p> </p><p>He had tried to drink it away last night, but there was not enough alcohol in the world to make the situation anything less than horrible.Though it was no excuse, he had been the monster he was raised to be.How much was there he still had to unlearn and atone for?</p><p> </p><p>He could not take back the past.He could only do better in the future.That was what Dr. Mohammed had told the group last night.Maybe those words were meant for all of them, but Mickey had taken them personally.</p><p> </p><p>He got up, no longer willing to sit in bed stewing. </p><p> </p><p>He had been shaky last night.Morose.Guilty.Wondering what the point was, but then Ian was there, waiting up for him.Why, he had no idea, but fuck was he grateful. </p><p> </p><p>He glanced at the clock.It was early enough Ian was probably still in bed.He snuck down to Ian’s room and poked his head in.Scraggles took his intrusion as an opportunity to let himself out. </p><p> </p><p>Ian was still sleeping.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey tip-toed into the room and sat on the edge of the bed next to the person who meant the most to him.“You saved my life.” </p><p> </p><p>“How did I do that?”Ian asked, rolling over onto his back and stretching his long arms over his head with a yawn.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had not realized Ian was awake or he would never have said that out loud. </p><p> </p><p>“You saved mine too, you know.”Ian said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>After a moment’s hesitation, Mickey settled back against some pillows.“How’d I pull that off?”</p><p> </p><p>“You loved me at my worst.”Ian replied, snuggling down a little deeper under the covers like he had no intention of going anywhere. “No idea how you did it.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey held out a hand which Ian took.It was always weird looking at their joined hands.Ian’s were fucking huge, long fingers able to search and reach and wrap around whatever he wanted to grasp.Mikey’s hands were smaller, scarred, rough, but with a grip like a pit bull’s jaw. He did not let go unless he wanted to.This, he did not want to let go of.“You’re under my skin, man. What can I do?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can think of some things.”Mickey could hear the smile in Ian’s voice as the ginger ran his thumb over the remnants of U-UP. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I bet you can, fire crotch.”Mickey snarked back, uncomfortable with Ian’s flirty tone.</p><p> </p><p>Ian didn’t say anything.He just kept holding Mickey’s hand. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey remembered giving Ian shit about courting and the incredible sensuality of bare ankles, but there was something nice about this.It felt good to just sit and be still with each other.</p><p> </p><p>In the silence, his mind wandered to memories of his mother’s hugs when he was a child.Those were the only times he could remember feeling even close to this warm inside. </p><p> </p><p>It had not been love, not really, since his mother’s one true love was heroin. It had just been the left over scraps in those narrow little windows between nodding off and jonesing for the next fix, but they had meant the world to him back then.She had also died from an OD. Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly he felt tears coming on.He blinked fast, trying to make them stop, but they wouldn’t.He stuck a fist in his eye, trying to rub them away.It didn’t help.Feeling overwhelmed, he started deflecting.“You know short stack is gonna be on that door any minute now, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but can we just wait until she is?”Ian asked with a content sigh and a squeeze.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotta piss.”Mickey declared, pulling away.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked great, Ian thought as he entered the kitchen surrounded by the scrum of Gallaghers and Balls he had just picked up from the airport.It was hard to believe he had been morose and sad only a few hours ago when he had come into Ian’s bedroom looking for comfort.</p><p> </p><p>He was wearing new clothes, dark jeans that were baggier than Ian liked but fit much better than what Mickey used to wear.He had on a teal blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons open. His dark hair was swept back from his face in what Ian would call a pompadour, but never to Mickey’s face.A strand had fallen forward and hung in his eyes.He was clean shaven and his blue eyes were clear when he looked up to take in the mob ascending on his kitchen.He smiled. “S’up family?”</p><p> </p><p>Fiona walked straight up to him and hugged him.Tight.Like she hugged her siblings.Mickey very briefly hugged her back. </p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled. It was small, but it was progress.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona pushed back and looked Mickey up and down.“You look fantastic!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” Mickey ducked his head like he always did when complimented, but there was a smile tugging up the corners of his lips. </p><p> </p><p>Ian’s heart swelled a little more.Mickey had taken a compliment and accepted it.If this was what months of isolated misery bought them, Ian was glad to have suffered through it. </p><p> </p><p>“How’ve you been, Fiona?”Mickey asked, stepping back and letting Vee side hug him.She put a hand on his stomach and while he flinched he didn’t immediately pull away.He waited a heartbeat before gently pushing her back out to arms length. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey wasn’t a hugger.They all knew that so it didn’t seem weird.Ian noticed only because he knew how sensitive Mickey was about his belly.</p><p> </p><p>“Good.Really good.” Fiona smiled, but it was one of her getting through it smiles meant to reassure other people.Ford was not with her.Ian did not know what had happened between them and he wasn’t going to ask.</p><p> </p><p>“No more crutches?”Lip asked.He looked like shit, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot.Ian was concerned for him, but more worried Lip would say something to derail Mickey when he finally seemed to be getting better.</p><p> </p><p>“Just a knee brace for a couple more months.”Mickey shrugged, pushing an antipasti plate toward the edge of the island to make it clear there were snacks available. </p><p> </p><p>“When can we go get Frannie?”Debbie asked, also giving Mickey a brief hug while staring at the clock in the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, if you want.”Ian told her.It was after five so they could go get her whenever they wanted which judging from the look on Debbie’s face was right now. </p><p> </p><p>“Let’s go.”Debbie said, heading back toward the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey frowned.</p><p> </p><p>Ian knew Mickey was feeling protective of Frannie. He did too, but everything that could be said had been said.It was up to Debbie now.</p><p> </p><p>“Need help?”Vee asked Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I got it.”Mickey said, but then frowned at himself. “Actually, if you want to make the pasta while we go get the kid that would help.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cook it you mean.”Vee said, hands on hips, looking at Mickey like he had lost his mind.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know how to make pasta?”Mickey raised an eyebrow at her, as if he had forgotten normal people bought pasta in a box.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Mickey.I do not know how to make pasta.”Vee said in a what’s-wrong-with-you tone of voice.</p><p> </p><p>“I can do it,” Ian offered.No need for things to get weird.He had watched Mickey do it often enough he was pretty sure he could copy the effort. </p><p> </p><p>“Ian!”Debbie whined from her place that the top of the stairs.“We’re going to get Frannie now.”</p><p> </p><p>“When we get back.”Ian amended with a shrug, not wanting to fight about it.It was easier to push back dinner than argue with Debbie.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was staring at him wearing a doubtful expression, but he nodded.“It can wait until after we get her I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re coming, too?”Debbie asked with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>“Frannie asked me to, so yeah, I’m coming.”Mickey replied.“It’s only her first week.She still needs the reassurance.”</p><p> </p><p>Debbie’s frown deepened. </p><p> </p><p>“We can all go.”Fiona said, trying to take down the tension.“I want to see where she goes to school, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever. Can we get this show on the road?”Debbie urged, making shooing gestures towards the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“She’s doing good in school?”Debbie asked Mickey as they crossed the street.Ian and Fiona were chatting behind them.Everyone else had stayed at the house to get settled in for the weekend.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.She’s doing good.”Mickey told her.It was only day five of kindergarten, but so far so good.He tugged at his shirt collar.  It was hot and he wished he was wearing shorts instead of jeans.He was going to be a sweaty mess by the time they got home.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie nodded and Mickey wondered what she was thinking as she walked silently next to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Some of her friends from daycare are in her class, so that helps.”Frannie had been scared to start at a new school until she found out two of her best daycare friends, Sumara and Sarah, were also in her class.There were a couple others, but Mickey was particularly glad those two were in her class so Frannie wouldn’t be the only one living with a gay couple.It helped normalize things for all of them.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Debbie said.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a six to one ratio, four teachers in a class of 24 kids.Can you believe that?I mean we were what?Thirty to one if we were lucky?”Mickey was rambling, but couldn’t seem to stop.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Still can’t believe Ian got her in.That’s damn hard to do, but Frannie did her part too.She did good on the entrance testing and she slayed her interview.”Mickey would not forget that day.He had been nervous as hell because he did not want to fuck up her chances.He had even bought makeup to cover up the remnants of FUCK U-UP and then spent the entire time he was at the interview worrying it was going to rub off on something.It had been nerve racking for him, but Ian and Frannie charmed their way in.“And she’s got Yev there.He’s in first grade, but he looks out for her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a great school.K through 12.”Frannie could stay there until college.She would have a first class education.Mickey wanted that for her. He also liked that the school was more diverse than he had expected.He didn’t want Frannie growing up with the rich version of the same fucked up white-is-right bullshit he had.He wanted her to be comfortable around and inclusive of everyone.“It’s not what I was expecting, you know?I figured it would look like an upscale klan rally, but it’s pretty diverse.Lots of different kinds of rich people in New York.”</p><p> </p><p>“Super.”Debbie said, staring off into the distance.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey said, aware she was only half listening to him, but he wanted her to be so impressed by the school and the possibilities it offered that she would finally, finally move to New York so Frannie could keep what she had.“They teach them Spanish right along side English too.Used to be French, but who needs that?”</p><p> </p><p>Debbie rolled her eyes. “Why not Chinese?That’s were all the work’s going.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged.He didn’t care what language Frannie learned, but he thought it was cool she would be able to speak more than one.He knew scraps of Ukrainian because his mother had barely spoken English.Terry didn’t speak Ukrainian and had not liked it when she did thus when she died so did the language.Mickey thought about trying to learn it sometimes, or maybe Russian since that’s what his son was learning. “Yevgeny is damn near trilingual.If you get him really riled up, sometimes his speech devolves into this weird Russo-Spanglish thing that’s pretty fucking funny.”</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t learning English hard enough at this age?”Debbie asked and Mickey realized she was defensive.That was what he wanted out of this conversation.</p><p> </p><p>Smiling, he replied, “I asked that, but apparently it’s easiest to learn languages when your this age. I figure, fuck it.Why not?Give ‘em an advantage.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ian watched Mickey and Debbie talking with more than a little concern.He knew Mickey’s current plan was to make the opportunity this school afforded Frannie seem so awesome Debbie would have to move to New York so Frannie could stay there.They had talked about it a few times in the past week.</p><p> </p><p>Ian didn’t think it was a good idea.He thought it would just be further impetus for Debbie to give up and make them raise her daughter.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey argued they already were so what difference did it make.</p><p> </p><p>Ian didn’t really have a response to that.He couldn’t make Debbie do the right thing.All he could do was what he thought was best for Frannie and if that aligned with what Debbie wanted to do that would be great.If it didn’t, the situation he found himself in would last for the next thirteen years or so.What he really wanted was for Debbie to just make up her fucking mind. </p><p> </p><p>She only had four more months to pull her shit together.  </p><p> </p><p>“He’s laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?Fiona asked as Ian pointed out the school half a block away.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s telling it like it is.The school is awesome.Frannie is lucky to go there.If she stays, she’ll have advantages the rest of us never even dreamed of.I’ll keep paying for it whether Debbie gets her back or not.”Ian replied.He had made up his mind about that.The kid would want for nothing.He’d go behind Debbie’s back if he had to.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona side eyed him.“So, neither of you are on board with Frannie coming back to Chicago anymore?”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t say that.”Ian sighed.He could admit he didn’t like the idea. He was used to having the little rug rat around now.He had adjusted his entire life to include her.So had Mickey.He did sometimes think about how it would be if Debbie took Frannie back to Chicago, though he felt like that possibility was getting less and less likely.“If she does get her back and wants to be in Chicago, then Frannie can to go to Liam’s school.”</p><p> </p><p>“She really, really doesn’t want you paying for things.”Fiona said as they started up the steps into the school.Debbie and Mickey were already inside the building.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”Ian asked for easily the thousandth time.He could not understand it. “She’s looking for someone to take care of her.Why the fuck does it have to be anyone <em>but</em> me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Somehow, in her mind, it’s different.” Fiona shrugged, leaning against a railing which told Ian they weren’t going to go inside but instead wait out here for them.“Don’t ask me how.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s fucking stupid.”Ian growled. </p><p> </p><p>Three of his five siblings were going school on his dime.Carl and Liam could care less that he paid for it.Lip resented it, but he still took the money because he was smart enough to see the benefit to himself and his future.It wouldn’t be too long before Lip would graduate, get his own job and be self sufficient which was the point. </p><p> </p><p>Ian didn’t want his family to ride his coattails forever, but he did want to drag them far enough along they had the momentum to keep going on their own.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona could be weird about it, but she let him help her around the edges.He paid her finders fees when he bought real estate she suggested and she let him fix up the North Wallace house and put the younger kids through school.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie was another story, incapable of seeing the hypocrisy of refusing to let him help her move to New York or pay for college while at the same time leaving him with total responsibility for raising her child.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.I’ve tried talking to her about it a million times.”Fiona agreed looking tired as she pulled her hair up off her neck.“But she doesn’t listen to anyone anymore, especially not me.”</p><p> </p><p>It was hot, Ian agreed, but not as bad as it got in Chicago.“I feel like she just doesn’t care.”</p><p> </p><p>Fiona eyed him for a second and shrugged.“Have you noticed how thin she’s gotten?”</p><p> </p><p>“Now that you mention it, yeah.”He had thought she looked skinny when he picked her up at the airport but chalked it up to the dress she was wearing. </p><p> </p><p>“She says she’s been dieting.”Fiona told him and something in the way she said it worried him.</p><p> </p><p>“But you don’t believe her?”He asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach.Please no.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona read his mind.“I have no evidence that she’s using, but I worry.”</p><p> </p><p>“They could piss test her at the next court date, she knows that right?”</p><p> </p><p>Fiona nodded and pulled a face. “She knows. It might just be all the designer clothes she still buys and returns.She thinks I don’t know, but she’s got a storage unit full of swag.She gets all dressed up and goes out to some very swanky bars on weekends trying to meet someone.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes.For fuck’s sake.“Jesus.Does she know most people in those places assume she’s a hooker?”</p><p> </p><p>“They assume that?”Fiona asked and it occurred to Ian she might have tried a similar tactic a time or two.</p><p> </p><p>Claymore had provided him with a crash course in the art of doing business. As a result, he had spent enough time in hotel bars and fancy clubs with straight men to know exactly what they thought when an over dressed young woman walked into a bar all by herself. </p><p> </p><p>It was not kind and probably not true in most cases either, but, “If they’re being generous they assume a single woman at the bar is a sugar daddy shopping easy lay.”</p><p> </p><p>Fiona frowned.“Men suck.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian didn’t disagree.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was rapidly approaching the end of his patience.</p><p> </p><p>He had hidden out in his kitchen for as long as he could trying to avoid the drama.He wasn’t the only one.Fiona and Vee stayed with him letting him teach them how to make pasta.Lip and Kevin were up on the roof with the kids.</p><p> </p><p>All of them were trying to avoid Debbie.She had been in a snit since they got home with Frannie. </p><p> </p><p>At school, Frannie had snubbed her mother in favor of Mickey, latching on to him and ignoring her when they picked her up in her classroom. </p><p> </p><p>Making matters worse, the teacher who Mickey thought was super nice, wasn’t nice to Debbie.Knowing Frannie was a foster kid and seeing her shrink away from her mother in favor of her foster dad was probably what did it. </p><p> </p><p>Mrs. Aleni was a tall, graceful Nigerian woman who carried herself like royalty.It turned out her regal posture was because she was also a ballet teacher, but he had not known that the first time he met her.She had intimidated the hell out of him at his very first parent teacher conference when she was Yevgeny’s teacher, but then at the end she cracked a smile and it was like the sun came out.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey usually took his time warming up to people, but Mrs. Aleni he liked from the first smile.Yevgeny adored her so much he had cried when he found out Mrs. Aleni couldn’t go to first grade with him.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie also seemed to really like her. </p><p> </p><p>But Debbie had not gotten the heart melting smile. She got an ice queen, gracious, condescending and frigid.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling judged, Debbie got angry and defensive, forcing Mickey to try to smooth things over, something he sucked at. </p><p> </p><p>The entire way home Debbie spent fuming about how she was treated eventually demanding Frannie be pulled from the class.Frannie loved her class though so when she overheard her mother insisting she be removed, the little ginger got pissed.</p><p> </p><p>That turned into a fight, which turned into a time out, which turned into silent resentment with all the stereotypical stubbornness Mickey associated with redheads. </p><p> </p><p>The situation reminded him a little of his own mother which might be why it was getting to him so much.</p><p> </p><p>She was oblivious to him most of the time so ignoring her was easy, except for those moments when she did focus on him.Those were terrible because no matter what he did it would hurt.If he melted into her attention, as soon as it ended, it hurt.If he ignored her, it still hurt, but it hurt <em>less</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie, who had been through the exact same thing, enduring occasional notice in an ocean of neglect from both her parents, should have been able to understand. </p><p> </p><p>Instead Debbie was following Frannie around demanding attention in a gross parody of Monica’s brief reappearances in her own life.</p><p> </p><p>Things finally came to a head at dinner when Debbie sat next to Frannie and tried to cut up her food for her like Mickey usually did.Frannie’s face twisted up and she reared back and slammed her little fist into Debbies hand, screaming, “I can do it myself!” </p><p> </p><p>The plate and food went flying and Debbie started yelling snatching her hand back and holding it against her chest.She was bleeding. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey was out of his chair like a bullet, grabbing Frannie and wrestling the fork out of her grip.She was hysterical and all Mickey could think to do was take her outside and away from the rest of the family.</p><p> </p><p>As Frannie melted down in his arms, Mickey kept an eye on what was going on through the windows.It didn’t look like Debbie was meeting with much sympathy in there.Lip and Fiona were talking to her as Ian disappeared up the stairs and then trotted back down with a huge first aid kit.Vee opened it and started working on bandaging Debbie’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey took a look at Frannie’s hand, checking for injuries.She was starting to calm down sohe asked, “What’s gotten into you, ginger snap?”</p><p> </p><p>“I xi her.”She said, rubbing angrily at her wet cheeks with her sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t mean that.”Mickey said, though looking at her, she seemed pretty serious.He recognized that expression.It was Ian’s done face.</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head at himself.Frannie was about to turn five. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had still craved any attention his mother would give him back when he was that little.It had taken years of repeated rejections before he understood she could not focus on him often or for very long and it hurt less to just ignore her.Frannie couldn’t possibly know that yet.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s a mean mommy.”Frannie said, climbing out of his lap so she could kick at a stone. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, nobody’s perfect.”Mickey replied reminding himself he shouldn’t project his feelings about his mother onto Debbie and Frannie.As dysfunctional as their relationship was right now, it was nothing like having a junkie for a mother.</p><p> </p><p>That thought raised a new fear.Terry had beaten him bloody many times, but Mickey had only made his old man bleed once.It was the night he came out.And there had never been physical violence between him and his mom.Not once.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie had endured nothing like the abuse Mickey had, and she stabbed her mom in the hand.</p><p> </p><p>That shit had to be nipped in the bud. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey added counseling to the list of extracurriculars Frannie would soon be engaged in. He ruffled her hair.“She’s the only mom you got, so you might wanna try being a little nicer to her.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t wanna.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re mad at her.”Mickey acknowledged, unconsciously using tactics learned in therapy. </p><p> </p><p>“She’s mean.”Frannie said again.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey agreed Debbie was mean. “Sometimes, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s gonna leave me again.”Frannie said, tearing up.</p><p> </p><p>God, Mickey knew how that felt. So did Debbie, which was why she should be doing better than this.</p><p> </p><p>It made him want to slap some sense into her, but Frannie didn’t need his anger added to hers.She needed to calm down which meant he needed to check himself.“But she’ll come back again, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Frannie shrugged, wiping her nose on her sleeve.“Not for a really long time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe.”Mickey agreed because kids did not understand time.Seconds could seem like ages to a five year old.No point arguing.</p><p> </p><p>She climbed back into his lap and started crying again.</p><p> </p><p>Inside the house there was a lot of gesturing going on indicating the discussion was pretty intense. The only people missing were Kev and his daughters.Mickey looked up and he could see Kev watching him from a second floor window. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded up at the larger man, who returned the gesture before turning away to go deal with whatever was happening in Mickey’s kitchen.Dinner was getting cold.Mickey started contemplating putting the pasta in a casserole dish and reheating it in the oven.</p><p> </p><p>“Mickey?”Frannie asked, snuggling into him and pulling him out of his culinary escape.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, kiddo?”</p><p> </p><p>“Can I stay with you forever?”</p><p> </p><p>“Um,” Mickey grunted at the kid stabbing him in the heart with a knife made of feelings.He suddenly felt like crying, not the tears in the eyes kind, but the gut deep kind that came from the ugly hidden places in his childhood.He swallowed it down, like he had swallowed down so many hurts and choked out, “You’re gonna live with me for as long as you need to, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“What if I always need to?”She asked turning to look at him with her wide, deep blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Someday, you’re gonna want a home of your own, but for as long as you need me, I’m here.”Mickey promised, meaning every word.</p><p> </p><p>“What if I don’t need you, but I just want you?”She asked and it killed him she couldn’t tell time but she knew the difference between need and want.That was a Southside lesson if ever there was one.</p><p> </p><p>“Baby doll, you own a piece of my soul.We may not always be together, like in the same house or whatever, but right here,” he pointed to his heart, “you’re always with me, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“I love you, Mickey.”She put her arms around him and squeezed as tight as she could.</p><p> </p><p>As much as he had not wanted to, he had bonded with this kid and it was a for keeps sort of a deal.“Me too, sweet pea.You think we can go back inside now?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m hungry.”She told him.</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.”Mickey agreed looking into the house again.Fiona was watching him and gestured for them to come in.Debbie was behind her.She looked upset still, but that seemed to be an almost permanent thing.In an effort to prepare her Mickey put Frannie on her feet and said, “You know, when people make you mad it’s not okay to hurt them, right?”</p><p> </p><p>It had taken him two decades to figure that out.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”She agreed, kicking at the grass.</p><p> </p><p>“When we get back in there, people are probably gonna be upset about what you did.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Let them lecture you and say you’re sorry, okay?”Mickey suggested.He had learned this was the best way to deal with angry non-Milkoviches.Preparing for a beat down wasn't necessary.Preparing to be lectured to death was. </p><p> </p><p>She looked up at him.“I’m not sorry though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Frannie,” He sighed, concerned but telling himself she really didn’t understand the gravity of what she had done.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.I’ll <em>tell</em> them I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Well, shit.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was one of the shittier days Ian had had in a while.He was already sick of having his family in the house and it had only been a few hours.He was super pissed at Debbie, freaked out by how nonchalant Frannie was about stabbing her mother in the back of the hand, and really, really not in the mood for a party in the morning. </p><p> </p><p>He was tired and just wanted things to go back to some semblance of normal.Since that was not going to happen for another 36 hours, he was irritated and powerless to do anything about it. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey, who was staying in his room for the weekend, walked out of the closet dressed for bed.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you believe this day?”Ian asked, because he couldn’t. </p><p> </p><p>“Pretty fucked up.”Mickey agreed.</p><p> </p><p>Ian wondered how bedtime was going since in spite of what had happened Debbie had insisted on putting Frannie to bed herself.“Mildred, show me Frannie’s room.”</p><p> </p><p>The TV blinked on and he saw Frannie was in bed, arms crossed over her chest, chin raised and a frown on her face.Debbie was sitting in the chair by the end of the bed with a book in her hand.Her voice filled his ears as she read from Good Night Moon.Her tone was clipped like she was pissed and trying to hide it.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sat beside him on the end of the bed watching the TV.He was fiddling with his fingers like he used to do when he was itching for a cigarette.Ian took one of Mickey’s hands in his.He had a very real concern Debbie was going to give up on getting Frannie back.“You realize we...I mean, <em>I</em> am probably going to wind up Frannie’s permanent guardian, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”Mickey agreed, rubbing at his face. He heaved a breath and then said, “It’s not so bad having her around.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”Ian had not expected that since every other time they talked about Frannie Mickey bitched and moaned about how Debbie needed to step up.The subtext being even if he did adore her, he didn’t want to be saddled with Debbie’s kid a second longer than he had to be. </p><p> </p><p>On the screen, Debbie closed the book and walked over to the bed like she was going to kiss Frannie good night but the little girl pulled her covered up over her head. </p><p> </p><p>Debbie groaned and with a roll of her eyes stomped out of the room.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stood up and stretched his back.“She doesn’t deserve to grow up like we did.”</p><p> </p><p>“She won’t. No matter what, she won’t.”Ian replied, because he would not let her.He watched as Frannie took the covers off her head and rolled on her side. </p><p> </p><p>“We can take care of her.”Mickey said, “Need to get her in counseling pronto though.Don’t want to be stabbed in my sleep if I piss her off.”</p><p> </p><p>“We?”Ian asked, incredulous, as Mickey chuckled at himself like being stabbed by a five year old was somehow funny.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought you were the barnacle to my boat or some shit.”Mickey muttered, the smile sliding off his face.He glanced up at Ian, then looked down and away like he thought maybe he was asking for something he didn’t deserve.</p><p> </p><p>“I am.”Ian said, surprised.Holy hell, he wanted this.To clarify he asked, “Are you saying we’re a couple again?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,”Mickey groaned, turning his back.“Don’t like being touched still.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s okay.You’re still my best friend.”Ian said, also rising and stepping around the smaller man so they were facing each other again.It was okay to not be a couple yet.They would get there.He wasn’t worried about it.“There’s no rush, Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>Both eyebrows scrunched together as Mickey raked a hand through his hair muttering, “That’s not what you want.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled down at the smaller man.“Actually, it is.I always wanted us to be friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Sure.”Mickey said, not believing him.</p><p> </p><p>Ian wanted to pull Mickey into his arms and just hug him for a while, but he didn’t.Hand holding was as far as Mickey had been willing to go so far and that was fine.Ian held out a hand.“The most successful relationships are the ones that have friendship as their foundation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your shrink tell you that?”Mickey asked, staring at Ian’s open palm.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.She did.Does that make it wrong?” </p><p> </p><p>Ian made a grabby gesture and Mickey reluctantly took his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah.Just, is best friends all you want now?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian looked at him hard, trying to gauge what the right answer was right now.Mickey was staring at the floor. </p><p> </p><p>Ian wanted to be husbands, have a family, travel the world and grow old together.Mickey didn’t need that kind of pressure, but he did seem to need some reassurance.“I just want to be with you.Whatever form that takes, that’s what I want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gonna marry me someday?”Mickey snorted like the idea was insane, but then he went still, like he realized he had just said the quiet part out loud.</p><p> </p><p>Ian squeezed his hand and smiled, trying to diffuse the situation he teased, “Are you proposing?” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s gaze shot up and the blood drained from his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, joking.”Ian said, not letting go of Mickey’s hand when the smaller man tried to pull away.He had not meant to make Mickey more uncomfortable which is why he had tried to make a joke of it.It had just gone over like a lead balloon. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey chewed on his lip and his eyes fell back to the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“But I would.In a heartbeat, I would.”Ian meant that with his whole heart. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey glanced up at him.Then back down, then up again this time holding Ian’s gaze.“Even if I’m always weird about shit?”</p><p> </p><p>“Even if you’re always weird about sex, yes.” Ian named the elephant in the room.Mickey probably would always be a little weird about sex, but that didn’t mean they would never have it again or that it couldn’t be good.Ian had faith in them.It would take time, but it would be okay.They would be okay.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey reached up and patted his cheek letting go of his hand.“Going for sainthood there, Gallagher?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. Just going for what I want most.” Ian heard the distancing of his last name.Usually he honored that, but not now.Not when Mickey needed him to be sure. “So, best friends?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged.“Don’t really have any other ones, so I guess you’re it by default.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll settle for that.”Ian grinned, feeling like they had just taken another step forward.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here is my voting plan:</p><p>The last day to register to vote in Texas is October 5th.  Early voting starts October 13th.  My first day off is the 15th and you can bet your life I will be in line EARLY that day.  I’m bringing my DL, Voter Registration, N95, goggles, hand sanitizer, disinfectant wipes, folding chair, iPad &amp; external battery, sun screen, hat, water and snacks in case there’s a long line.  I plan to give the chair away to someone else waiting once I’ve voted.</p><p>I also plan to begin relieving staff for breaks so they can go vote starting on the 13th. </p><p>What is your plan to ensure you are registered and able to vote?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Parties, Paternity and Parenting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Mickey woke up Saturday morning he knew the day was going to suck.He knew it.He hated the damn pull-out couch.His back complained painfully when he rolled over.</p><p> </p><p>He raised his head and discovered an Ian shaped dent in the bed where the redhead had been.He was probably out running.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stretched his arms over his head and thought about how they were going to have to rearrange the morning. </p><p> </p><p>The plan had been to get Frannie and Debbie out of the house early so Mandy and her crew could come in and get the party set up. That way it would still be a semi surprise for Frannie. </p><p> </p><p>Since those two couldn’t be left alone together, they were going to have to do something else.</p><p> </p><p>He got up and wandered down to the kitchen were Fiona was waiting on the coffee pot. </p><p> </p><p>Lip was there too, sitting on a kitchen stool looking like he had just woken up after a bender.“Morning.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, there.Get any sleep?”Fiona asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, sort of. Mildred, show me the fourth floor landing.”The TV flicked on, showing an empty hallway. Fiona and Lip were looking at him strangely so he explained, “We need to know when one of them gets up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.Jesus, last night.”Fiona nodded pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to Mickey. </p><p> </p><p>“That was some shit.”Mickey agreed, shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>“What did Frannie say about it?”Lip asked as Fiona handed him a cup.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, she’s totally cool with making her mom bleed.I’m gonna talk to my shrink about getting her a shrink.”Mickey shrugged.Their ginger snap might be a psychopath.Or she was just not quite five and had no real concept of cause and effect.Either way, she was going into counseling to deal with her anger problems.</p><p> </p><p>“Did she understand what she did?” Fiona asked, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>“Not sure.”Mickey admitted.Frannie had apologized like he told her to but he could tell she didn’t mean it. </p><p> </p><p>“Probably not.Her brain is still in the early stages of development.It’s not until our mid 20’s that our brains are fully formed.”Lip informed them.“The section of the frontal lobe having to do with cause and consequence is last.Explains a lot doesn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>Fiona grimaced.“I get why she’s pissed.I’m just surprised she’s this angry this early.It took me a lot longer with Monica.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey could see that.Fiona had been selfless enough to raise five kids.Debbie couldn’t even be bothered to raise one.</p><p> </p><p>Neither could his own mother.He had been a child when she first tried to get sober.Without meaning to, he shared, “I remember being so pissed at my mom when she came back from rehab.She was clean for the first time in my life but I was so fucking angry at her for leaving us...”</p><p> </p><p>When his voice caught in his throat, Lip said, “You know her relapsing wasn't your fault right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.I know.”He knew that, but it still tore him up that rather than be happy for his mom and maybe help her stay sober, he had been mean and resentful.She ODed for the first time a week after she got home.The ambulance made it in time, but she never tried to get sober again.A couple years later an almost post pubescent Mickey found her dead with a needle in her arm sprawled out on the kitchen floor.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona put an arm around him and squeezed hard, releasing him just as abruptly because she knew he didn’t like being touched.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey ran a hand down his face trying not to let thoughts of his mother pull him down. He wished he would stop thinking about her so much.He’d gone years without a thought and now it was like he couldn’t get her out of his head. </p><p> </p><p>He preferred to focus on the more immediate problems he had to deal with.“How the fuck are we gonna get through this day? Mandy and her crew will be here at eight.Party starts at noon.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was thinking about that.” Lip said as he poured himself another cup of coffee.“How about you and Ian take Frannie to the park?I’ll take Debbie out for breakfast and have a heart to heart with her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like the talk, or the talk before the talk?”Mickey asked, because while the Gallaghers ignored some problems, others they talked to death.He really didn’t know what could still be said that hadn’t been already, but it was a very Gallagher trait to beat a dead horse.</p><p> </p><p>Lip shrugged.“I don’t know. We haven’t had a chance to really talk for a while, so we’ll see how it goes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like talking to a fucking wall.”Mickey scoffed, getting another cup of coffee.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona raised an eyebrow at him.“Frannie seems to be just as stubborn.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t I know it.”Mickey agreed. “Won’t Debbie be mad if we end up with Frannie?”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s already mad.”Fiona shrugged.“Maybe if she gets mad enough, she’ll start taking thisseriously.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or she’ll finally say fuck it.”Mickey said, because that was his biggest worry.They all knew the clock was starting to wind down.</p><p> </p><p>Lip looked at him, watery blue eyes intense.“What are you gonna do if that happens?”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I get another kid then.”If he and Ian stayed together.If Debbie didn’t get her shit together.If the Delgados didn’t win custody.There were a lot of ifs in the equation.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a great dad.”Fiona smiled at him and Mickey scanned her face looking for a sneer or something to indicate he was being patronized, but she looked sincere.</p><p> </p><p>Missing most of the first six years of his son’s life definitely took him out of the running for father of the year. Then there was the incident at Christmas.Nope, not a great dad, but he’d kept Frannie alive and happy when Ian had been at ComiCon.Basically, he was an available adult who did an okay-ish job meeting the minimal requirements of parenthood.He shrugged and deflected, “You gonna have kids with that Ford guy?”</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head vehemently.“I’ve already raised five.I’m done.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t wanna push one out yourself?”Mickey asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Hell no.I like my cooch the way it is, thanks.”She told him, frowning.“Besides, he has an army of kids.He doesn’t need another one with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”Mickey’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes darted over to Lip who nodded.Now it made sense why Ford hadn’t come this time and probably why last time had been so weird.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s been a sperm donor for a ton of women.”She shrugged, but tone of voice said there was more to it than that.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right?” She said, doing that smile-grimace thing she did when she was upset but trying to pretend she wasn’t. “I mean, it’s weird.He literally has like 12 kids with nine different mothers.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought you just jizzed in a cup and that was it.How could you know how many kids?”Mickey asked, because he had actually researched this once when he was broke and needed fast cash.</p><p> </p><p>“There were no cups.”She replied, brown eyes so big and sad it made Mickey feel bad for her.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” He floundered around for something to say that wasn’t completely insensitive and ended up with, “Guessing that’s why he’s not here, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s one reason, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>As he predicted, Mickey was having a hell of a morning.</p><p> </p><p>It started with a very cranky Frannie refusing to wear the dress she had picked out herself for her birthday party.She hated it.She hated everything in her closet.She would not be placated which changed their plans for the morning.</p><p> </p><p>She was still in her pajamas when they ended up taking her out to eat and then shop for a new dress.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie was still pissed at her mom, Fiona was trying to smooth things over and something was going on at Claymore because Ian’s phone kept going off and the ginger idiot kept leaving the table to go outside and talk on his phone. </p><p> </p><p>Lip ended up staying at the house, Mickey suspected because he wanted to hang out with Mandy.  Mickey wished he’d been able to fine an excuse to get out of this too.</p><p> </p><p>There was not enough coffee in the world to make breakfast anything less than awful.It took forever to get their food and then Frannie didn’t like the waffles because Debbie doused them in fake syrup.To Mickey it was like the difference between Diet Coke and regular Coke.People either liked one or the other, but never both. </p><p> </p><p>Besides, they didn’t have any of that fake shit at home.Mickey made everything he could from scratch.What he couldn’t make, he bought from local producers or the nearby Whole Foods.He was on a first name basis with a fish monger, a butcher, a cheese maker and a bunch of other people at the farmer’s market. </p><p> </p><p>So yeah, he had turned into <em>that</em> guy.He sort of hated himself for being a food snob, but at the same time he wanted to make sure the people he loved ate well.He had grown up in a food desert where convenience stores served as grocers and McDonalds was a luxury.Fuck him for not wanting to feed his family crap.</p><p> </p><p>In an effort to appease her daughter, Debbie sent the waffles back and ordered pancakes.They waited another eternity for those to be delivered along with real maple syrup.Finally the little grump ate and they were able to move on to phase two. </p><p> </p><p>They went to 5<sup>th</sup> Avenue to shop.Mickey was certain this was only because Ian was on the trip with his black card.Otherwise they’d be at Old Navy or Marshalls. </p><p> </p><p>Fiona and Debbie dragged them from store to store, kid section to kid section, where Frannie rejected every dress they showed her.Ian managed to avoid most of it lagging behind the group talking on his phone or texting and looking stressed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s try in here.”Fiona said, leading the way into what Mickey was convinced had to be at least the 50<sup>th</sup> store they’d been in so far.Granted, they had time to kill so Mandy could get the party set up, but fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Ian still had his phone glued to his ear so he stopped outside the store and made a shooing gesture for the rest of them to go inside without him.Mickey rolled his eyes, but followed the girls inside.</p><p> </p><p>It was worse than Macy’s or Gap Kids or Sak’s.His eyes were assaulted by more pink than a flock of flamingos.It smelled so strongly of candy it made his teeth hurt and was so overwhelmingly girlie he was convinced he could feel the testosterone leaching from his body as he stood there.</p><p> </p><p>So of course, this was the store where Frannie found her dress.The little ginger walked straight up to a ombré dress going from pink to orange and announced, “This one.”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone looked relieved until Debbie found her size and then checked the price tag.Her shoulders slumped.“It’s too expensive.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I <em>want</em> this one.”Frannie whined.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie held up the price tag so they could all look at it.Who in their right mind would pay that much for a dress the kid would outgrow in five fucking minutes?</p><p> </p><p>The sales woman came up and told them, “It’s on sale, 25 percent off.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because $750 is much more reasonable.”Mickey snapped. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s just too much, Frannie.”Fiona explained.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie’s gaze traveled from Fiona to Mickey who she wrongly assumed might be the easier mark. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Mickey</em>,” Frannie turned on her cutest begging face and whined, “Please?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”Mickey replied.There was not a chance in hell he would fork over $750 for a dress.They had enough history now for her to know when he said no he meant it.Sometimes Ian would give in, but Mickey stuck to his guns.</p><p> </p><p>“Mommy?”She turned back to Debbie, eyes wide, innocent and pleading.</p><p> </p><p>To Mickey it was abundantly obvious this was the same manipulation Ian sometimes fell for, but Debbie was desperate for the attention.She looked at the dress again and said, “I don’t know, baby.I really can’t afford this.”</p><p> </p><p>Just the hint she might give in was like chumming the water for a hungry shark.Frannie turned up the charm, smiling cutely and putting her arms around Debbie, staring up at her with those big blue eyes.“<em>Please</em>, Mommy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me see what I can do.”Debbie replied, looking out toward the street and Ian who waspacing in front of the window. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes and met Fiona’s gaze.It really annoyed him how selectively Debbie was insulted by Ian’s help.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie handed Fiona the dress and went outside and tried to talk to Ian.He took his phone away from his ear, listened to her for a moment and frowned.She gestured at him some more.Looking annoyed, he put the phone back to his ear and with his other hand pulled his wallet out and handed her his black card.</p><p> </p><p>Debbie shot him a dazzling smile before dashing back into the store.Fiona was glaring at her, but Debbie was oblivious.</p><p> </p><p>“I can get it?”Frannie asked, entitled triumph all over her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, baby, you can have the dress.”Debbie smiled, taking credit as if she was the one paying for it.Mickey’s blood started to boil.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome.”Ian said as he opened the door to find Celia, Tonya, Derek and a pregnant woman he didn't recognize standing on his stoop carrying gift bags.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t in the mood for this.He was tired and his head was still stuck in the HR crisis he had been presented with earlier.One of his lead designers had been accused of sexual harassment by a coder.It was an issue he had to take seriously so he had spent most of the morning talking to HR and the lawyers about what to do to investigate the claim.He also had to come up with a plan if the accusation was credible.Losing his designer would be a huge blow to several projects, but keeping a predator on staff was worse. </p><p> </p><p>He had never dealt with this before so it was stressing him out.</p><p> </p><p>Having the Delgados in his house was not going to help.Until custody was decided they were basically the enemy.He could not show that though since Connie, their case worker, was at the party to observe the family dynamics.So he plastered a smile on his face and ushered them into his home. </p><p> </p><p>Sometimes Ian forgot how jaw dropping his house could be.Watching the Delgados take it in reminded him how amazing it was. </p><p> </p><p>The first floor was decorated like an enchanted forest with potted trees, shrubs and flowers everywhere.The walls were covered over with scrims depicting forests and mountains.Even the ceiling was covered with a scrim painted with blue sky and realistic looking clouds.A carpet of faux grass covered the floor and the bar was disguised behind plants and mosses.The floor to ceiling moving glass walls were open to the courtyard which was similarly decorated.There was a temporary fence containing a unicorn (a white pony with a horn affixed to it’s forehead) a couple lambs, piglets and some bunnies for the kids to pet.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had no idea how Mandy had gotten it all done in just a few hours.</p><p> </p><p>Servers dressed as fairies were walking through the crowd of children, parents and nannies taking orders for the bar and the kitchen since they were also providing lunch.</p><p> </p><p>“This is quite...something,” Celia said.It was not a compliment.To Ian it looked like she was intimidated and trying to hide it by being judgmental.She clearly thought they had gone way too far for a child’s party.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was mildly offended.The only instructions he had given Mandy were when and where he wanted the party.He had left the rest up to her.She did what she always did and it was a sumptuous, magical experience, but it was way over the top for a five year old’s birthday party.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Since hanging out with him was not the point of the Delgados visit Ian searched the crowd and located their purpose for being here.“Frannie’s over there.” </p><p> </p><p>Ian pointed into the crowd.Every kid from Frannie’s class at kindergarten plus all of her daycare friends and a bunch of their siblings had come so there were a lot of rug rats running around.There were also a lot of parents and nannies dressed in various levels of planned to stay for the party versus decided to stay in spite of yoga pants because this is pretty cool and I want to see what else these crazy gays do.</p><p> </p><p>The only reason Ian could find Frannie in the throng was because Mickey was a homing beacon for him and once she had won the dress standoff Frannie re-glued herself to the brunette while completely ignoring her mother.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was wearing a black V neck tee over tan cargos.The shirt fit tighter than Mickey usually liked, but when Ian had told him it showed off all the work he had been putting in at the gym, Mickey bought it.The pants, while baggy, still hugged his ass just enough to be tantalizing.Bella was a damn genius.</p><p> </p><p>While Ian was appreciating Mickey’s back side, Celia spotted Frannie and started weaving her way through the crowd to the little girl.Tanya, Derek and the pregnant girl followed her.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Meja!”Celia cried, dropping to her knees next to Frannie.Mickey glanced up from the bowl of slime he was making to watch their interaction.He had assumed she would be dramatic since she had people to impress today, but this was a little much.</p><p> </p><p>The little ginger apparently thought so too as she turned and looked at her grandmother, recognition but no interest in her eyes.“Hi.”</p><p> </p><p>Celia hugged her though Frannie tried to squirm out of it.“Say hi to your daddy, honey.”</p><p> </p><p>Derek was hovering behind his mother looking like he would rather be back in a combat zone.For some reason he was dressed in his Air Force cammo.Mickey assumed that was meant to impress Connie.He was holding hands with a pregnant girl. </p><p> </p><p>Another puzzle piece fell into place. </p><p> </p><p>The guy had moved on.He was having a child with someone else and an old nightmare had resurfaced, destabilizing what he had been building.Mickey almost felt sorry for the guy.Debbie had trapped him and looking at him and his girl, this might cost Derek the kid he actually wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie looked at Derek and then at the pregnant woman and shyly said, “Hi.” </p><p> </p><p>“Derek!”Debbie snarled, pushing her way through the crowd towards them.Mickey inwardly cringed, hoping Debbie would remember Connie was there watching.</p><p> </p><p>As Derek’s head snapped up at the sound of Debbie’s voice, the pregnant woman’s lips tightened, but she pushed through it and knelt down next to Frannie.“Hi, Frannie, I’m Peppa.I’m your daddy’s fiancé.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Frannie said, eyeing her with suspicion.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was half paying attention to them and half watching Derek as Debbie charged her way towards him.</p><p> </p><p>He thought about intervening, but Fiona did the work for him, grabbing Debbie’s arm and Derek’s attention dragging both of them away towards the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Peppa watched them go.Frannie was staring at Peppa’s belly.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re going to have a baby half-brother soon.”Peppa told her, rubbing a hand over her belly and smiling.The smile did not reach her eyes, but at least she was trying.Mickey would give her that.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Frannie turned her attention back to the very important work of slime making.Peppa’s face fell.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was forearms deep in pink, glittery, strawberry scented slime.This was definitely not his usual aggressive and intimidating first impression which he wasn’t pleased about, but whatever.He stood and started toweling off his pink stained hands. “Congratulations.”</p><p> </p><p>Peppa looked up at him.Mickey held out an arm to her.As she took it she asked, “You’re Mickey, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“You got me.” Mickey agreed, pulling her up to her feet.She looked nearly ready to pop. </p><p> </p><p>He glanced around the room and watched as Celia was threading her way through the crowd in the direction Fiona had taken Debbie and Derek.Tonya took up his place at the kids’ table.</p><p> </p><p>Peppa moved off a little and Mickey followed her.He wanted to know the people who might end up raising the little girl he was coming to think of as his...niece.She was maybe, someday, his niece.Definitely not his daughter.Nope. </p><p> </p><p>“This is an amazing party.I’ve never been to anything like it before.”Peppa said.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, me neither.My sister’s an event planner.I think she went way overboard, but the kid’s happy so whatever.”Mickey agreed.Yevgeny’s birthday party had been nowhere near this elaborate.Yevgeny didn’t seem jealous, but Mickey still worried he was.</p><p> </p><p>“This house is insane.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you get used to it though.”Mickey shrugged as he lied through his teeth.The house was fucking overwhelming sometimes.If he thought about it too much, he would find himself drowning in how fake it all felt.He was supposed to be in a six by eight foot cell for the rest of his life, not a 12,000 square foot mansion on the Upper East Side of New York.</p><p> </p><p>“If you say so.”Peppa said and Mickey couldn’t tell if she said it because she knew he was lying or because it just seemed impossible for someone to get used to a house this fancy.“We went by the school yesterday just to see it.Top 10.I mean, wow.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a really good school.It’s like a six to one student to teacher ratio.My son goes there too.”Mickey gestured toward Yevgeny who was at the same little table as Frannie making green slime with little while balls in it.Yevgeny smiled up at him when he caught Mickey looking.Mickey smiled back.He loved that kid. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Peppa blurted.Her gaze travelled to the bar.Derek was standing there in his uniform drinking a beer and looking miserable.Debbie, Fiona and Celia were in the corner of the room having a tense conversation.Connie was nearby listening with a frown.That couldn’t be good.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes returned to the woman next to him.She was looking at Frannie.“If it weren’t for the paternity test, I’d never believe she was his. ”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey glanced over at Frannie.She looked like a Gallagher through and through with her bright red hair and dark blue eyes.To look at her, no one would ever know her father was Puerto Rican.Like Liam, she was a genetic wildcard.The Gallagher family was full of wildcards.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t even know he already had a kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“That sucks.”Mickey said, because it did suck.None of this was Peppa’s fault.She was engaged, pregnant and discovering the man she loved had lied to her, hid things from her and her dreams for the future were irrevocably changed.If she weren’t already pregnant Mickey imagined she would have left Derek over this.He sure as fuck would have.</p><p> </p><p>“I was pissed, but at least the Air Force brought him home to sort it out.He’s gonna have to pay child support now though.”Peppa told him. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey wondered if worrying about child support payments meant they weren’t going to pursue custody.It sure didn’t look like Derek wanted to and Peppa had her own bun in the oven to worry about. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey also knew from prior Skype conversations Derek was an Airman First Class.He had looked up what that meant and discovered Derek was an E3 making about $24,000 per year.Mickey had lived on less, so he knew how hard it was. Even with free military housing, it would not be easy to raise even one kid on so little.</p><p> </p><p>“Stupid bitch.”Peppa muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“She was young, dumb and desperate.”Mickey had no idea why he was defending Debbie who was currently ranked second on his shit list right behind Terry and just ahead of Clive.Every decision Debbie made was selfish.She just did whatever impulsive shit she wanted and left the mess for other people to clean up. </p><p> </p><p>This room was filled with collateral damage from her unilateral decision to have a baby at 15.He could forgive that if she had learned from it, but at 19 she was still making the same dumb mistakes.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s a bitch too, but I was talking about Celia.”Peppa told him.</p><p> </p><p>Celia had stolen Frannie as an infant and called DCFS on Debbie twice back in the day.She was very intense on the Skype calls trying to get Frannie’s attention and then when that waned, talking about next steps and custody.</p><p> </p><p>Again, Mickey felt bad for the pregnant girl beside him.Her future mother-in-law was something else.</p><p> </p><p>He followed her gaze to Derek.The guy had his back to the bar and was surveying the party like he was trying to find the exits.“Derek’s a mamma’s boy, eh?”</p><p> </p><p>“All Latin men are mamma’s boys.”She told Mickey with a roll of the eyes as her attention focused back on him.“You got dragged into this, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey agreed.He had been, but since then he had fallen in love with the little ginger.She did not deserve to be in the center of this shit storm, but she was and it was his self appointed duty to protect her as best he could.The goal was for her to be safe, cared for and loved by whomever finally got custody of her. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay with this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not much choice is there?”Mickey shrugged.“She’s a great kid and she deserves the world.”</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like she already has it.”Peppa gestured out into the room before she walked off to join Derek at the bar. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey watched Peppa move away figuring that last sentence had been the point of their conversation all along. </p><p> </p><p>He sat back down next to Yevgeny to continue making slime lost in thought.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I usually post once a week, but it’s probably going to slower for a while. </p><p>I’m not in the best head space.  </p><p> </p><p>I deleted a pretty long rant here - if you’ve read the others, you know what this one said.  I decided I didn’t want to put more negativity out on the universe.</p><p>Please vote.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Don’t Kill the Unicorn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Idiot ex-husband looks upset.”Svetlana observed as Ian was passing by her on his way to Mickey.He needed a break from being social and Mickey tended to create a bubble of ‘don’t mess with me’ around himself that also gave Ian a chance to be left alone for a while.</p><p> </p><p>Ian stopped and looked at Mickey a little harder.He noticed the set of Mickey’s shoulders and the pinch in Mickey’s lips indicating he was pissed and trying to hide it.“Yeah. Not sure what’s going on with him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Things become more real today.”Svetlana said, grabbing a glass of white wine off one of the servers’ trays.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe.”Ian agreed, though he was sifting through all of their interactions this morning trying to figure out what he might have done to make Mickey mad.</p><p> </p><p>“He likes to be family I think.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian had not thought of that, but it made sense.The Southside thug he’d fallen in love with no longer had to hide behind his fists.He was allowed, finally, to be whoever he was on the inside and that guy seemed to really love being a dad. </p><p> </p><p>The only reason Mickey had not left when his therapy got so hard was because he wouldn’t abandon Frannie.Ian was grateful for that because it kept them together and gave them a common purpose.It reminded him sometimes the things that seemed like obstacles in life were really blessings in disguise.“Yeah, I suppose he does.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yevgeny is jealous.”She continued.</p><p> </p><p>“He is?”</p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes at him.“Frannie sees Papa and Ian every day.Yevgeny sees on FaceTime and Sunday only.He is jealous.I do not tell you because Mickey could not handle until now.Now, things are better.He can handle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Ian had assumed Yevgeny was a little jealous, but he was such an amiable kid it was hard to tell.There wasn’t anything they could really do about it either.Svetlana had full custody so Mickey was doing the best he could with the time he got.Ian looked over at Mickey again.Frannie was on one side and Yevgeny was on the other and all three of them were making slime.It made him smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I am thinking you make a room for Yevgeny.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Yevgeny had never stayed over with them unless Svetlana did too.Thus, Ian had never thought of setting up a room for Yevgeny.He should have though.A kernel of guilt took root.“Oh shit, we should have done that!We just never thought of it because he always goes home with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“He wishes to stay over.” </p><p> </p><p>“Great!He can totally stay over whenever he wants.”Ian exclaimed.He loved the idea of having Yevgeny around more.One the best times of his life had been when he had been living with Mickey, Svetlana, Mandy and some other people at the Milkovich house when Yevgeny was an infant. </p><p> </p><p>“I am thinking we discuss new arrangement.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s kinda between you and Mickey don’t you think?”Ian asked.Mickey had never contested their custody arrangement.Ian thought it was because Mickey felt like an interloper who was still earning the right to call himself a dad.That might have changed now since Mickey was proving to himself and anyone else watching that he was a great dad...or maybe not.It was hard to tell with Mickey sometimes.</p><p> </p><p>“But my idiot ex-husband is your future idiot husband.”Svetlana reminded him.“We decide.We tell him.He agrees.This is how we handle Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no.”Ian disagreed.“Consider that lesson learned, Svet.I don’t make decisions for him.You two work it out however you want and tell me about it.I’ll agree to whatever you guys decide.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiled and patted him on the back.“Ah, carrot can be taught after all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Trying.” Ian said, realizing she had been testing him.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“You are good man, orange boy.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Having fun?”Ian asked as he slung an arm over Mickey’s shoulders and kissed his temple.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah, time of my life.”Mickey huffed, pushing him away.He wasn’t ready for kisses especially after having been ignored for the past hour.Ian had spent that hour floating from group to group chatting and smiling and being charming.Mickey had been stuck trying to pretend he didn't feel the daggers being glared into his back by Debbie, Celia and Tanya since Frannie was still giving him preferential treatment.</p><p> </p><p>“You mean birthday parties for five year olds isn’t your scene?”Ian joked.</p><p> </p><p>“Shocking absolutely no one.”Mickey shrugged.While Ian was off doing his charming host routine, Mickey had learned how to make pink glitter slime that smelled like strawberries.Now <em>he</em> smelled like strawberries. He also endured having blue chalk brushed into his hair and his face painted like a ‘warrior fairy’ whatever the fuck that meant.He hadn’t seen it since the mirrors behind the bar were covered up, but judging from the other face painted adults, he figured it looked gay as hell.</p><p> </p><p>“At least Frannie and Yev are having fun.”Ian said picking at Mickey’s blue hair, wearing that dopey smile Mickey associated with being patronized.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey agreed jerking away and trying to smooth down whatever mess Ian had just made.His hair felt waxy and stiff under his hands and he was pretty sure it was flat against his head like a damn helmet.Touching it turned his fingers blue.“Damn it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I kinda like it.You look good in blue.”Ian teased, handing him the napkin from the drink he was holding.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey wasn't in the mood.“You’re gonna be black and blue if you keep that shit up.”</p><p> </p><p>Whatever Ian was going to say in response was cut off by the opening chorus of <em>Happy Birthday</em>. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey turned to see a cake shaped like a seated unicorn being wheeled into the room on a cart by Debbie who was wearing a very determined smile.Mandy was right behind her to make sure nothing happened to the cake.</p><p> </p><p>Instantly Debbie was surrounded by a scrum of children oohing and aahing over the cake which, even to Mickey, was a work of art. The thing was hyper realistic and fucking beautiful.It had to have cost a small fortune.</p><p> </p><p>When the song finished Debbie pulled out a cake knife and said, “Who wants the first piece?”</p><p> </p><p>Sumara and Sarah, Frannie’s best friends, immediately burst into tears and Frannie ran between Debbie and the cake shouting, “Don’t kill it, Mommy!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just a cake, sweetie.”Debbie replied, looking confused.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna <em>murder</em> it!”Frannie cried grabbing for the knife which Debbie managed to keep out of her reach.Their little ginger was pissed.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey took a step forward and then stopped.He had handled the fork incident, but Debbie wasn’t injured this time.She was Frannie’s mother and it was her job to sort out her kid, not his.It was a chance for her to impress Connie with her parenting skills.He forced himself to wait and watch.</p><p> </p><p>Fiona and Celia took the opposite approach jumping in to help Debbie out.Fiona was helping because it was what she always did.Celia was trying to score points with the case worker.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie and her friends were not to be consoled, however.They just cried harder until Mandy and a server turned back up with rainbow frosted cupcakes.</p><p> </p><p>The unicorn’s life was spared, the kids still got their sugar rush and peace and goodwill were mostly restored.Frannie was still glaring daggers at Debbie.</p><p> </p><p>When they started opening presents, Mickey took it as his chance to escape.He immediately made his way to the bar where he found a beer and a very smug looking Mandy.She had saved the day so why not?“How did you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t.The cupcakes were for kids with allergies and to supplement the cake if we had more guests than expected.I figured if I had too many they could go in the swag bags.Thank god I had them.”Mandy told him as she watched Frannie open her presents. “Trust me, I’ll remember this for next time. What a party saver, holy fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>“Never gonna get rid of that thing.”Mickey harrumphed, gesturing toward the cake.Frannie was opening presents but also looking over her shoulder every few minutes to make sure the cake was still there.It was too big to go in the normal fridge so it would have to go into the catering kitchen in the basement.It would likely be weeks before she forgot about it and he could finally clear it out.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it has a name, so probably, yeah.”Mandy knocked her shoulder against his, grinning at his misfortune.</p><p> </p><p>His eyebrows rose.“They named it?Already?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Glitterella or something.”Mandy said.“First and last time I do a hyper realistic cake for a kid’s party.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked over at the unicorn cake and the circle of little kids still hovering around it.They clearly liked it very much. </p><p> </p><p>He frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s cute.”Mandy said, pulling his empty beer bottle out of his hand and replacing it with a fresh one.</p><p> </p><p>“If you say so.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The party could be categorized a success if the goal had been to impress the other kids’ parents, intimidate the Delgados and make Frannie happy. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank god we only have to do that twice a year.”Ian said flopping down on the bed.As suspected, Glitterella was now safely stored in the basement refrigerator where hopefully it would be forgotten soon and there was a crew downstairs cleaning up the party aftermath. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey didn’t say anything.He was glaring at the palm of his hand which was blue since he had run it over his hair.</p><p> </p><p>Ian liked the blue hair and the ‘warrior’ marks the face painter had drawn around Mickey’s eyes.They were like a very gay version of <em>Braveheart</em> which was not a reference Ian was stupid enough to make. </p><p> </p><p>He rolled on his side and smiled.The Mickey from Chicago would have died before he let someone do that to his face.It was beautiful to see him comfortable enough in his own skin to willingly look silly.Thinking of how much Mickey had grown in such a short time reminded him about his conversation with Svetlana.“Did Svetlana talk to you?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. Why?”Mickey asked, pulling his arms out of his sleeves and trying to get the tee off without letting it touch his face or his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“She just said she was planning to talk to you.”Ian hedged, not lying but skimming the edge of untruth.</p><p> </p><p>A sliver of skin appeared between Mickey’s cargos and the hem of his black wife beater undershirt.It was tantalizing, but off limits.Very off limits.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, well she hasn’t.”Mickey replied, tossing the tee on the pull-out bed.He looked great it a wife beater, Ian thought.Mickey ran his hand through his hair again.“Wonder what I did now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you always assume she’s mad at you?”Ian asked.Svetlana had not been mad at Mickey since prison, but Mickey still always assumed she was.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged.“I’m gonna take a shower, get this shit outta my hair.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Ian agreed as Mickey passed by him and went into the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled over and pulled out his phone with a yawn.He had no new texts or calls.He probably wouldn’t hear any more about the HR incident until Monday.There were a few emails, but none were worth responding to now.Mickey was super fast in the shower so the smaller man would be out any second anyway. He waited.</p><p> </p><p>Five minutes later Mickey came out dressed in gray cargo shorts and a blue tee shirt, drying his hair with a towel.</p><p> </p><p>“So what are we doing with the rest of today?”Ian asked, hoping Mickey would come up with something they could do together.He didn’t want to hang out with his family if he could be with Mickey instead.</p><p> </p><p>“I was gonna work on dinner.”Mickey replied walking back into the bathroom.From inside he asked, “You got plans or do you want to be my sous chef?”</p><p> </p><p>“No plans.Guess I’ll get another chance to work on my knife cuts.”The last time he had played sous chef he had been scolded for not dicing the carrots correctly.“What are we making?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was gonna grill again.It’s too nice outside not to.”Mickey said coming out with his hair styled.“Plus, I can offload that part on Kev and Lip.Let other people feed me for a change.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Ian immediately felt guilty.Mickey cooked two meals almost every day.That was a lot of work and Ian didn’t help as much as he should.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey eyed him.“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just thinking I should help you more.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”Mickey arched an eyebrow at him.“You don’t cook.”</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t have to do all of it though.”Ian replied getting up off the bed.He would just have to find more ways to help.He could maybe make breakfast most mornings or something. He’d have to get up even earlier to run, but he could do it.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shook his head at him.“It’s cool.I don’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Ian still thought he should do more to help out.He followed Mickey down to the kitchen.No one was there.Everyone was on the roof enjoying the sunshine and the pool.Ian was glad for the alone time and the opportunity to work together.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey opened the refrigerator and pulled out a package with three chickens in it and a package of hamburger meat.To Ian, he said, “Can you go down to the freezer and get me the big container that says barbecue sauce?Need to start thawing that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian went down to the basement kitchen.He hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to find the sauce.The last time he’d been in the freezer it had been rammed full of bread and not much else. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had started making bread at Thanksgiving and it had become something of an obsession.He said he enjoyed the structure and rhythm of it.Ian thought it was the single biggest tell Mickey had for how anxious he was.The worse he felt, the more bread he baked.</p><p> </p><p>On a good day, it was way too much for three people to eat, but Ian never said anything.It was the healthiest coping mechanism Mickey had ever had so if that meant he had an entire walk in freezer hoarded out with bread, so be it.</p><p> </p><p>When he opened the door this time, to Ian’s surprise, it was almost empty.He found the large container of barbecue sauce with no trouble and carried it back upstairs.“What happened to all the bread?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey took the container of sauce from him and held it under the faucet.He said, “Donated it to a soup kitchen.”</p><p> </p><p>“They take home made bread?”Ian asked, because he didn’t think they did.He was pretty sure food had to be packaged certain ways for them to take it.</p><p> </p><p>“Not usually.”Mickey agreed as he transferred the lightly thawed frozen sauce from it’s container into a pot on the stove.As he lit the burner and set it to a low flame he elaborated, “I go to this farmer’s market most weekends and met a guy who makes some truly amazing shit.He donates his overages, so I asked him if he’d help me clear out the freezer.He sampled the goods, decided I’m not too bad, and now when I stress bake I take what I know we won’t eat to him and he donates it for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Mickey was making friends, friends Ian knew nothing about.Feeling ambivalent about it, happy Mickey was branching out and finding like minded people while also jealous as hell, Ian quipped, “Is he cute?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Mickey turned to look at him, both eyebrows near his hairline.“No.He’s an old guy.I’m not the one with a daddy fetish.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was teasing.” </p><p> </p><p>“I know.”Mickey smirked then his expression turned speculative.“Maybe you can come with me tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, like a date?”Ian asked, elated to be invited into Mickey’s life outside of the house.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s face scrunched up.“Fuck off.”</p><p> </p><p>So, that was a push too far.Ian amended, “Or like best friend’s hanging out?”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever.”Mickey shrugged like it didn’t matter. “You wanna come or what?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled, knowing it was a big deal Mickey was asking him out.It was rare for Mickey to ask him for something so when he did, Ian would drop everything to make the brunette happy.“Sure, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cool.”Mickey nodded, looking relieved as if Ian might say no.He went to the fridge and returned with several bags of vegetables.He put them in front of Ian.“So, figured we’d roast some veg too.No need to be pretty, just cut thick bias slices.”</p><p> </p><p>Because Ian knew exactly what that meant.Rather than admit he didn’t though he googled it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, it’s been an eventful couple of weeks, hasn’t it?</p><p>In addition to the election and Trump shenanigans, this is what’s going on in my world:</p><p>I am on day 6 of a 14 day wait to find out if I get COVID or not.  This is the third mass exposure on my unit.  My first test was negative.  I am keeping a symptom diary and so far so good.  No symptoms.  </p><p>I am still working because my hospital considers my exposure low risk.  I was in a office with this person for 30 minutes, door closed, both of us mask off occasionally for water.  We were both trying to hydrate.  This person, a co-worker, was mildly ill that day which I did not know at the time.  She thought it was her usual flare up of seasonal allergies.  The next day she lost her senses of taste and smell and tested positive for COVID. 😳 My unit is now running hella short because there were others deemed high risk who are all quarantined at home. </p><p>We have an ICU and a PCU unit dedicated to COVID, so far, another unit prepped and ready to take COVID cases and disaster plans for turning every other unit in an 800 bed hospital into COVID units all the way down to pre-op and PACU bays. The other 82 hospitals in DFW all have similar plans.</p><p>It’s important to understand these units full of COVID patients are pushing out other patients.  Under normal circumstances pre-COVID, my hospital already ran at between 89-98% capacity this time of year.  Converting units to COVID means we have less room for our normal patient population.  People are dying of things we could have treated. These are those excess deaths you hear about, people we could have saved, but didn’t because there was no room for them. That number sits at 250,000ish as of July.</p><p>There were 100,000 new COVID cases yesterday (10/30) and approx 1,000 deaths.  NONE of the numbers are trending in our favor.  This is going to get a LOT worse.  Please mask.  Please do not go out unless you have to.  Get your flu shot.  Take care of yourself.  Tip the hell out of the delivery people risking their lives to keep the rest of us going and please pray, send good vibes, whatever, to essential workers, healthcare and first responders.  We are tired. We are scared. We are demoralized &amp; we are acutely aware worse is still to come. </p><p>None of this had to happen.  </p><p>South Korea had their first case the same day we did.  As of today, they have a total (a TOTAL!!!) of 464 deaths and only 26,511 cases since this started.  They masked. They distanced. They contact traced. They quarantined.  </p><p>Meanwhile, we’re on track to lose 250,000 lives to COVID by the middle of November.</p><p>Because that’s not enough stress and 2020 is determined to be an evil bastard - last week I discovered my home has been invaded by mice.  Luckily (?) I had a pet rat as a kid, so I’m not a total basket case, but fuck, really 2020? </p><p>Bate traps are being set (they were on back order), but in the mean time, there are rodents in the walls, I am paranoid and cleaning like a mad fool, and my dogs are running around the house like they are insane.  The barking, man.  The barking.  I guess I’m glad I’m not quarantined at home having to listen to all the noise all the time.</p><p>Also, This morning I found a leak under the kitchen sink.  Sigh.</p><p>Fuck 2020.</p><p>PS. If you haven’t voted yet, please do.  Do not mail in your ballot.  Drop it off or vote in person.  Please do your part to restore sanity to our government and save some lives by getting COVID under control.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. 50:50</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is better than last supper.”Svetlana said.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted at the pun, but had to agree.They were up on the roof enjoying the warm late August evening.The sun was setting and Mickey had his legs dangling in the pool.He had a margarita in his hand courtesy of Vee.</p><p> </p><p>As he had hoped, Kev and Lip stepped in to man the grills.Mickey wanted to tell them to turn the fire down, but at the same time, fuck it.He could eat burnt chicken.He was not eating raw chicken. He had given them a thermometer to make sure the internal temperature got to 165.</p><p> </p><p>It had been nice doing the prep work with Ian.He was a quick study and an amiable companion.It had been quite a while since they had really just hung out.It was good.</p><p> </p><p>They spent the afternoon making baked beans and slicing cheese, tomatoes, onions and pickles for the burgers.Mickey taught Ian how to butterfly a chicken and Ian made cornbread all by himself from Mickey’s recipe.</p><p> </p><p>It was the most idyllic evening Mickey had spent with the Gallagher clan.Ever.No one was stabbing anyone with the cutlery.So far no one was drunk, no one was belligerent and there had been no fighting.He was about to ruin it though.“Ian said you wanted to talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Svetlana took a sip of her cocktail.“I do.About Yevgeny.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sighed.He had been wondering since Ian brought it up what he had done to piss her off.Things with his son had seemed pretty good lately so he had no clue what he was in trouble for.“What did I do now?”</p><p> </p><p>“You do not ask for more time with him.”She said, staring at him with expressionless blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, I’m just grateful to see him at all!”Mickey exclaimed.It was a miracle she let him be within 100 yards of his kid with his lineage and track record.</p><p> </p><p>“You should see him more.”</p><p> </p><p>“I want to see him more.”He did.In the past he had been scared to be alone with Yevgeny, but surviving several months with Frannie had proven to him he could take care of a child.Yevgeny would be safe.He could keep his son safe.“Is this about Disney World?I wanted to talk to you about...”</p><p> </p><p>“He should have room here.”Svetlana announced.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes narrowed.“You do not want?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I definitely want, it’s just...I’m not...” He trailed off.He would love for Yevgeny to have his own room, but this wasn’t his house.He was basically just a glorified roommate who didn't pay rent.They had not really talked about the living together shit even though they’d been doing it for months.Mickey ruled the kitchen, but he left the rest to Ian. </p><p> </p><p>There was a lot he and Ian needed to talk about.They had to redraw the lines again which meant there were some tough conversations ahead, but it was time and this was the push he needed.“Ian and me need to talk about some stuff.” </p><p> </p><p>“Then you talk.”She agreed, watching him closely.“Yevgeny will stay with his papa every other week.You take him Sunday and return him following Sunday, yes?”</p><p> </p><p>Every other week?That was shared custody.He suddenly started worrying about health insurance, being able to afford private school and a whole bunch of other things he hadn’t considered when Svetlana was solely responsible for the kid.He couldn’t afford half of Yevgeny’s upkeep, not with the lifestyle his kid was used to.Holy fuck this was a lot to take on, but at the same time he loved that little boy.Whatever it took.“I’ll have to see about some things, talk to Ian before I can say yes to that, but absolut...”</p><p> </p><p>“You have two weeks to make room for your son.How you do this is up to you.”She cut him off as she drifted away from him over to the other end of the pool where Vee and the kids were playing.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.Good talk.”Mickey called after her, then muttered to himself, “Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“What’s the matter?”Ian asked when Mickey walked up to him wearing a determined expression.</p><p> </p><p>“We need to talk.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s heart sank.Out of Mickey’s mouth, that phrase usually brought something uncomfortable or awkward or awful with it.“Okay.Let’s talk.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not here.”Mickey disagreed, glancing around the roof at all the Gallaghers still present.</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed.Whatever Mickey wanted to talk about, this confirmed it was not good.“Let’s go downstairs then.”</p><p> </p><p>The moment the bedroom the door closed behind them, Ian asked, “What did you want to talk about?”</p><p> </p><p>“Us.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Ian suppressed a grimace.He had known the sudden swing back into a relationship was too good to be true.“What about us?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey bit his lip and his eyes skittered over toward Ian’s bed and then to his feet before he asked, “What are we doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, they were doing this again.Ian breathed a sigh of relief.He expected to do this several more times before Mickey was comfortable with defining their relationship.Ian made a grab for one of Mickey’s hands.“Ah, well, I thought we already talked about this.We live together.We’re best friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty shitty roommate.”Mickey pulled it out of his reach.“I don’t really contribute anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh.Ian had known Mickey would eventually take issue with him paying for everything.Both of them had grown up in households were they were expected to pull their weight.Those who don’t work, don’t eat rules had applied.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had thought about how to handle this moment many times.Mickey might not be paying for things, but he was contributing in much more valuable ways.The trouble was how to articulate that in a way Mickey would see the value he was bringing rather than making him feel like a housewife.Ian had still not come up with a way to say it that he thought Mickey would hear, but the moment was upon him.There was no choice but try.He started with, “This whole show only works because you run it.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey scratched at the back of his head, looking irritated.</p><p> </p><p>Fine.Ian bit the bullet and asked, “Are you worried about money?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably can’t even afford the gas bill in this joint.”Mickey complained, still not meeting Ian’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He could, but it was basically his rent check when he had lived at Mandy’s.Telling him that wasn’t helpful so Ian decided to remind Mickey of the contribution he had earlier committed to.“The last time we talked about money you said you would take over groceries.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.“I did that months ago.You didn't even fucking notice.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian would have face palmed, but Mickey was finally looking at him.He had a reasonable (ish) explanation.He didn’t pay any of his bills, not even his credit card.“All the bills are on auto pay.My accountant checks to make sure nothing’s weird.”</p><p> </p><p>“Great.”Mickey grunted, clearly irritated Ian had not noticed the contribution he had been making.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.I didn’t realize.”Ian apologized. He should have known Mickey would take over the food bill when he went back to work.Mickey was good about keeping his promises.</p><p> </p><p>However, the fact of the matter was Ian would be paying for everything else whether or not Mickey was living with him so he said that.“I would be paying for all of this whether you were here or not.Taking over the food bill more than covers it as far as I’m concerned.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey glanced up at him and then his gaze fell.“Don’t wanna mooch.”</p><p> </p><p>“You aren’t.”Ian replied, trying again to create a physical connection between them.This time Mickey let him hold his hand.“I want you here.I need you here.I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey let Ian take his other hand too, but he would not look up. “Svetlana wants Yev to start staying with me every other week.You down for an extra kid?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d love that.”Ian said, finally understanding why Mickey was suddenly bringing up money.He was worried about taking on the extra responsibility and foisting it on Ian.“You know, next to now, the happiest time in my life was when we were all living together at your pop’s place.I fucking loved that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You did?”Mickey pulled back to look up at him.</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled.“You didn’t?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey ducked his head and pulled his hands free.“I mean, it was pretty cool, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian remembered that while it had been awesome for him, he had been manic at the time.It had to have been awful for Mickey trying to understand what was wrong with him and trying to figure out what to do about it.Suddenly ashamed of himself, Ian muttered, “I’m medicated now.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.You’re doing good.” Mickey said, looking up at him.It was hard to meet Mickey’s gaze remembering how much pain he had put the smaller man through. </p><p> </p><p>Then there were arms around him.He let his chin fall onto Mickey’s shoulder.Mickey’s hand came to rest on the back of his neck.Ian sighed and melted into the hug. Why Mickey was still with him, still trying to make a relationship work somehow, it was just...it was everything. </p><p> </p><p>“You are amazing.”Ian replied as he tentatively put his arms around Mickey’s shoulders.Mickey let him.Ian knew he didn’t deserve to be loved like this, but Mickey’s resilience was nothing short of miraculous.He sighed and Mickey squirmed in the way that meant they had plunged too deep into the feels and it was time to pull back a little.“Do you want to tell him tonight or wait until next week?”</p><p> </p><p>“Next week.”Mickey stepped back and swiped at the side of his nose.</p><p> </p><p>It was a clear sign the smaller man still had something on his mind.“What’s wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>“No fucking clue how I’m gonna pay for half of Yev and I still feel like I’m mooching off you.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Ian internally kicked himself. </p><p> </p><p>He probably should have talked with Svetlana about how to approach a split custody arrangement with Mickey.Ian knew it had never occurred to Svetlana, Mickey would assume a 50/50 custody arrangement would also mean a 50/50 financial arrangement.Like him, she knew Mickey couldn’t afford it and never presumed to ask him to. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had been their main provider back when they had all lived together but they had all made contributions.Mickey was expecting to contribute. He <em>needed</em> to contribute. </p><p> </p><p>However, there was a very large elephant in the room.“I made 52 million last year, Mickey.I know you don’t want to feel like a kept man or whatever, but at the same time, I’d feel like an total asshole taking money from you.So would Svetlana.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey blinked at him and then his brows scrunched together in a frown.“He’s my kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, he is.You and Svet have to work that part out, but in the meantime can you just let me take care of the day to day house stuff?We can always revisit it later, but for now, this is something I can do for us. Being able to do that means the world to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t owe me shit.”Mickey replied, seeing right through him.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not a quid pro quo.You take care of me.You take care of Frannie, of Yev, of our family.You have the mental and emotional strength to hold us together.I don’t.”Bipolar made sure he would never be able to do what Mickey did without even realizing it.“What I do have is a fuck ton of money and a lot of guardrails to make sure the people I love will always be protected.It balances out, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked at him, clear blue eyes searching for the lie, but there wasn’t one.After a moment he shrugged and agreed. “Yeah.Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”Ian asked, because that seemed a little too easy.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a persuasive mother fucker, what can I say?”Mickey smirked at him but the doubt in his eyes made it clear they would be revisiting this subject again in the near future. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Sunday morning started with a very good dream that Mickey managed to sleep almost all the way through.His subconscious had gifted him with a dream about Ian sucking him off in the shower. </p><p> </p><p>He woke up with a raging hard on and his hand already on his dick.It only took a couple of strokes to bust his nut and fuck, it was so good. </p><p> </p><p>It had only been about a month since he had been able to masturbate to completion by himself.</p><p> </p><p>Getting there had been an exercise in patience.When his mind started spinning off into the hell scape of the rape and aftermath, he stopped and let himself feel the fear.He let himself remember and what he remembered was no one had jerked him.No one had touched his dick at all.That was the realization that released the floodgate.Jerking off no longer triggered memories because there was nothing to trigger.</p><p> </p><p>Thank fuck he could finally relieve some of the sexual tension he had built up.It sort of amazed him he hadn’t locked himself in a closet somewhere and repeatedly jerked it until his dick was so raw he had no choice but stop.</p><p> </p><p>He grabbed a tissue and cleaned himself up, mind drifting back to Ian’s lips around his dick.Fuck, he missed that mouth.Just thinking about it made his cock twitch.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stretched and sat up a little, looking to see if Ian was still in the bed.He wasn’t.</p><p> </p><p>He rolled over, the shift making his back ache, but not so bad he wanted to get up yet.He sighed and let his mind drift for a moment. </p><p> </p><p>This Thursday he was going to share in group.He absolutely did not want to, but since Dr. Mohammed had told him there was no further for them to go until he did, he had started to notice the repetitive nature of their sessions.</p><p> </p><p>He dreaded it.</p><p> </p><p>He had to do it though. </p><p> </p><p>What he wanted was right in front of him.He was so close to being able to grab it.He could feel it. </p><p> </p><p>He got up and stretched, listening to his vertebrae pop painfully back into alignment.He seriously hated the pull-out.Thank fuck he wouldn't have to sleep on it tonight after everyone left.</p><p> </p><p>He paused in front of the bathroom mirror when he walked in.This was a new ritual that was easier when he was in his own room because there was no possibility Ian would walk in on him.Since he didn’t have that option, he took a deep breath and pulled his tee shirt over his head.He looked at his naked torso in the mirror. </p><p> </p><p>He started by looking at the phoenix tattooed on his chest, shoulder and down over his ribs and the left side of his abdomen.It was a huge tattoo, beautifully rendered.It was clear even at a distance it was a firebird rising.He liked the way it drew attention away from the scars littering his body.A strategically placed tail feather covered the ileostomy scar entirely while flames and feathers danced over the long scar under his ribcage. It masked both of them enough that they were only noticeable up close.</p><p> </p><p>The scar down the center of his abs, he hated.It was such an ugly reminder of all he had been through, but at least it was in a place were as long as he didn’t get fat, it would fade and eventually not be very noticeable.</p><p> </p><p>He had other, smaller scars from central lines and dialysis catheters, but he didn’t care too much about those.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed called staring in the mirror at himself exposure therapy and said it was helping him change how he thought about his scars.Conceptually, Mickey agreed.Scars weren’t a symbol of weakness like his self loathing told him. Dr. Mohammed said the bigger the scar, the tougher the man wearing it.While Mickey could accept this as true about other people, he struggled applying the same concept to himself.</p><p> </p><p>So, every morning Mickey spent some time staring at himself in the mirror trying to reframe how he saw his body.</p><p> </p><p>He got in the shower.This was something else he was working on.Touching the scars.He was not allowing himself to use wash cloths as barriers to avoid skin to skin contact anymore.Sometimes it flipped him out.More often lately, he was able to touch them, acknowledge they were there and get on with it. </p><p> </p><p>Someday, Dr. Mohammed said he would be able to touch his stomach and not think about it at all.He hoped that day was sooner rather than later.</p><p> </p><p>When he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth, shaved and spent a little time working on his hair.He used to wear it really short, but lately he had been letting it grow out on the top.He liked that if he styled it right he could get a little extra height. He’d tried it when he was younger but his older brothers had mocked him mercilessly for it.Now, no one cared and he could do whatever the hell he wanted with his hair.</p><p> </p><p>Satisfied, he went to the closet.He pulled gray shorts and a white V neck tee shirt out of his laundry basket of clothes.When he was looking for fresh boxers he heard Ian come in and go straight to the bathroom.He smiled.</p><p> </p><p>After the Gallaghers left he was planning to take his rag tag little family to the farmer’s market he like to shop in.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie would be a pain in the ass, but there was an ice cream vender he planned to stop at first to lube her mood.She was a sucker for sweets and he wasn’t above using that to his advantage.</p><p> </p><p>He was determined to make today be a good day.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It is 10:46am on Saturday November 7th, 2020 and I can finally breathe again.</p><p>Even Fox News has called it in favor of Joe Biden/Kamala Harris.  From now until January 20th is likely to be a bumpy ride.  Trump is unlikely to go quietly and his supporters have already shown themselves prone to violence.</p><p>I. Don’t. Care.</p><p>We still have some work to do.  Two Senate seats are up for a runoff in Georgia.  If we win those, we have a 50:50 Senate with Kamala as the deciding vote.</p><p>So, lets devote ourselves to getting those seats so we can do the work necessary to dethrone McConnell (Fuck you Kentucky for reelecting the devil) and start the work of undoing the last four years.  We also have to shore up our institutions to no longer rely on norms, but on law that holds elected officials to account.</p><p>Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything you did to ensure the US remains a democracy, clearly imperfect, but still a democracy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Sinker</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Downstairs was the usual chaos of having the Gallagher clan in the house.They were leaving in a couple hours to go back to Chicago and Ian couldn’t say he was unhappy about that.</p><p> </p><p>His run this morning had left him tired.He had contemplated going back to bed for a while, but not with his sister here who would immediately misunderstand and insist he must be depressed.</p><p> </p><p>He got a cup of coffee and found a seat at the table where he went basically ignored as the rest of his family hustled and bustled around him.He listened to them talk about mundane things like the bar and Kevin’s latest money making scheme.It was boring normal shit and just like always, no one noticed him or asked about his life.</p><p> </p><p>It had always been that way.He was the guy in the background, the one no one saw unless he made a scene.</p><p> </p><p>He and Dr. Brynner had been talking about this. </p><p> </p><p>It was something he felt extremely ambivalent about.He hated talking about his illness which was basically the only time any of them wanted to talk about him.Nagging him about his pills was not the same as supporting him.But other times he wished he could just talk about his day with his family, brag or commiserate or just fucking share his life with them. </p><p> </p><p>He gulped down some coffee and tried to sort through why this was bothering him so much this morning.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey wandered in, dressed and ready to go.Mickey had invited him to the farmer’s market today.It was not a date. </p><p> </p><p>Ian watched as Mickey got his own cup of coffee and then fell into conversation with Vee. </p><p> </p><p>It was almost like Mickey was more a part of his family than he was sometimes.</p><p> </p><p>A plate landed in front of Ian.“Eat up.”</p><p> </p><p>He glanced up at Fiona who was smiling down at him. “Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”He tried to lie, but from the way she was looking at him like she could see right through him, he knew he failed.</p><p> </p><p>She leaned against the table and frowned at him.“Just a little off?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes.She didn’t always pay attention, but when she did Fiona saw everything.It made him pause.Was he feeling off?“Maybe.I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want to talk about it?”She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”He really didn’t, but looking at her expression he knew she was going to make him.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Should</em> you talk about it?”She asked, arching an eyebrow at him.They could go the indirect route or she could run it straight up the middle.That was all the choice she would give him.</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed and got up, motioning for her to follow him.He picked up the plate, wishing Mickey had made breakfast instead of Vee since she scrambled the eggs too hard.He liked them runny.</p><p> </p><p>Once they made it to his office, Fiona flopped down into one of his teal chairs and asked, “Are you and Mickey okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian was quick to tell her as he sat down in his chair behind the desk as if the antique wood could somehow protect him.She folded her arms and looked at him.Explaining himself was an involuntary response when she looked at him like that.“He’s fine.We’re going to the farmer’s market later today.”</p><p> </p><p>She looked at him long and hard.“What did he do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing.He didn’t do anything.”Ian sighed.Making her understand without telling her wouldn’t be easy, but he needed to try. “He’s been through a lot, Fi.He’s working through it.He’s doing great actually, but sometimes if I think about it too much...it just...if I’d just stuck with him, you know?If I’d just been able to be there for him when it mattered...”</p><p> </p><p>She cut him off to remind him, “I know, but Mickey made choices too, Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but you don’t understand.”Ian replied, feeling the weight of guilt settle over him.So much of what had happened to Mickey was his fault.</p><p> </p><p>“I understand you were teenagers and both of you were up against it.The world was burning down around your ears and you both responded the only way you knew how.”She told him, earnestness oozing from every word.“And you’re both different now.I’ve watched you get your shit together over the years. Mickey though, I mean, Thanksgiving he looked like the walking dead.Today, he looks healthy.He’s been through some shit, that’s obvious, but it’s also obvious therapy is working for him.He’s becoming the sort of guy I always hoped you would find.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”Ian never thought Fiona would see the good things in Mickey.All he had ever hoped for was that she would tolerate him, maybe eventually treat him like one of the family since Ian wasn’t going to give her a choice.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”She smiled.“I never thought I’d ever say this, but Mickey Milkovich is good for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Even back in the day when you were first diagnosed, he was there.He had no idea what he was up against but he was totally ride or die for you, kept telling people you were family.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian vaguely remembered that and somehow the memory made everything worse.“I let him down.”</p><p> </p><p>“And he bounced back.”She countered immediately.“Mickey is resilient enough to ride out the highs and lows with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“My life is a terrible thing to put someone I love through.”Ian said, wondering as he said it if he was getting depressed.Probably was since the next words out of his mouth were, “I’m just going to keep hurting him.I’m going to disappoint him.I’m going to fail him.And I’m going to beg his forgiveness over and over until he just can’t take it anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>Fiona shook her head.“He knows what he’s in for and he still loves you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to put him through hell.”Ian said, feeling like crying.Yeah, this was definitely looking like he was heading for a funk.</p><p> </p><p>“You said the same kind of things the last time you left him.”Fiona reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>That gave him pause.Ian thought about it and she was right.This was the same sort of headspace he had been in back then.But now he knew he had hurt Mickey far more by leaving him than he would have sticking by him. “I’m not going to leave him.I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”</p><p> </p><p>He would never leave Mickey, but there was a strong probability someday Mickey would leave him.There was only so much pain a man could take and Mickey had already taken more than most. “I’m just facing the reality I’m going to hurt him.”</p><p> </p><p>She changed her position in the chair, looking like she might get up and hug him.“Your <em>bipolar</em> will hurt him sometimes, yeah.<em>You</em> just love him in between.It’s enough, Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>Was it?</p><p> </p><p>No, Ian decided.It was all he could give, but it wasn’t enough.“I just want to do right by him this time, you know?I want to be worthy of him.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are worthy of me.”Mickey interrupted from the doorway, cup of coffee in hand.“I mean, who’s the fucking millionaire here?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not about money.”Ian disagreed.Money didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s not, but when the question gets asked, it’s not gonna be why is Mickey with Ian.It’ll be what the fuck is Ian Gallagher doing with that Southside trash?”He pointed at himself but he was smirking like maybe he was joking.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not trash.”Ian said, getting up and moving around his desk toward Mickey. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I decide who’s worthy of me and you look pretty good Gallagher.”Mickey replied, reaching out and pulling Ian into his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I need to see Dr. Brynner.”Ian sighed into Mickey’s hair.He felt like crying.Mickey was finally hugging him again.He was the best person Ian knew and all he did was hurt him.All he would ever do was hurt him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know.”Mickey’s arms tightened around him and one of his hands found it’s way into Ian’s hair. “Let’s go call her, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”Ian choked out, trying not to break all the way down and scare Mickey by reminding him of how bad things could get when he hit a sinker.He’d had a mild one when Mickey had decided he had to distance himself several months ago, but he’d been able to mostly hide it since Mickey had been avoiding him then.</p><p> </p><p>“For what?”Mickey stepped back and looked up at him with clear blue eyes.“You’ve been depressed for like 30 seconds.You see the signs without anyone having to tell you and you want to see your shrink.What else could I ask of you?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian stared at the floor.He’d been feeling off since before the party, but had been trying to ignore it.“Still. I hate this.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay.”Mickey’s hands slid down Ian’s arms to his hands.He moved a little closer so he was in Ian’s line of sight.“Remember when we were talking about money and shit?You got me thinking.You were right, you know?You and me have different things we bring to the table.So you bring home the bacon and I’ll hold the rest of this shit show together, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>The effort to hold back the flood failed and tears started running down Ian’s cheeks.He let go of one of Mickey’s hands to wipe at them.“You’re in?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m in, Ian.”Mickey agreed smiling up at him, expression open and honest. </p><p> </p><p>Ian pulled the smaller man into himself and buried his face in Mickey’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They called Dr. Brynner together and Mickey listened as Ian explained what was going on with him.She let Ian whine and beat up on himself for about 30 minutes before stepping in to remind him how he was feeling right now wasn’t permanent and the things he was beating himself up for were old.He needed to take it easy, not try to force himself to do more than he could and to just let himself be down until he wasn’t anymore.</p><p> </p><p>She let it drop that Ian had had another depressive episode several months ago that Mickey had not been aware of.It had been when Mickey had decided to move back upstairs.He was not surprised that it happened, that Ian had been able to hide it from him, or that he felt guilty about it.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey definitely felt guilty for causing it, but that was his shit to work out, not Ian’s, so he didn’t say anything.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, Dr. Brynner didn’t change any of Ian’s medications. She said she didn’t want to do that unless it got really bad.For now, they would just ride it out. </p><p> </p><p>It was clear the call was hard on Ian.His body language became heavier the longer they talked until he was slumped on the bed and it felt to Mickey like Ian was giving in to something he had been fighting for a while. When they hung up with the doctor, a very apologetic Ian decided to go back to bed.He couldn’t deal with the disappointment of his family.</p><p> </p><p>It felt sudden, Ian had been joking with him last night, but at the same time, the poor guy had been under enormous pressure dealing with the weirdness of their...thing, the Frannie drama and whatever the hell was going on at Claymore.Mickey’s sudden willingness to to try again had probably been what tipped him over the edge. </p><p> </p><p>Bipolar was a chemical imbalance effected by hormone shifts and sleep patterns and a whole bunch of other shit Mickey didn’t really understand.What he did know, was Ian did best when he had a routine he could stick to and his relationships were stable.Basically what he needed was the exact opposite of what Mickey had been giving him.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed had told him many times he needed to develop a release valve for his emotions.He said it was like the difference between a pressure cooker and a crock pot.They both got the job done, but only one of them had the risk of explosion if no air was released. </p><p> </p><p>The cooking analogies were sort of annoying, but they made sense.Mickey needed to stop bottling things up until he couldn’t take it anymore.It wasn’t healthy for him and it was terrible for Ian.Ian needed him to be a crock pot, slow and steady, not fast and pressurized.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey talked Ian into getting back in his pajamas and then went downstairs to deal with the family.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Is he okay?”Fiona asked as Mickey re-entered the kitchen.<em>His</em> kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey nodded.“He went back to bed, but he’s okay.”</p><p> </p><p>She eyed him for a moment, assessing whether or not he was telling the truth.Mickey wondered if she would ever actually trust him.Then her expression softened.“If you need anything, you call me, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”Mickey said, surprised by her sincerity.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean it.”Her earnestness reminded him of Ian.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.”He agreed.He hoped never to need her as back up, but if for some reason he did, he would gladly take the help. He knew Ian pretty well, but she had been there since Ian’s birth.She knew the boy who had become the man Mickey loved. There was a lot of value in that.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie started wailing from the living room and Mickey’s thoughts immediately left Ian and zeroed in on his other ginger.When he turned to look he discovered she was sitting in Debbie’s lap with her arms around her mother’s neck melting down. “What’s that all about?”</p><p> </p><p>“We leave in two hours so of course now is when she decides she’s not mad anymore and gets clingy.”Fiona replied. “It’s how it works with kids.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”Mickey groaned.He had suspected it would end up like this, but had still hoped it wouldn’t. Dealing with a depressed Ian was enough without a heartbroken five year old on top of it.</p><p> </p><p>“I can stay.”Fiona offered.</p><p> </p><p>It was tempting since all Mickey really wanted to do was go back upstairs and sit with Ian, maybe hug him some more until he felt better, but he decided against it.In the past, when Ian was down he wanted to be left alone.Mickey would respect that as long as it didn’t become dangerous.</p><p> </p><p>His other problem, Frannie, had every right to be sad and to help her, she needed to get back to her routine as fast as possible if they stood a hope in hell of restoring normalcy for Ian.“Nah, we’ll be fine.It’s just gonna be a shitty day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, probably will.”Fiona said.“Probably more than one.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded, but he was thinking about how important stability was.Ian needed it for his mental health and Frannie needed it because she was fucking five and shouldn’t have to deal with shit like this.“Debbie needs to make some decisions.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think she has.She just doesn’t want to admit it yet.”Fiona said, nodded looking grim. “From what I saw yesterday, I don’t think Derek is going to step up either.I think he’s just trying to figure out how to break it to his mother.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re gonna be removing the foster part of foster dad here, aren’t we?”Mickey asked though it really wasn’t a question.Derek had enough on his plate without a kid he had never wanted.He had a new life and a new baby and he wanted nothing to do with Debbie or her mess. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> It pissed him off, but he was also glad to have one less variable to worry about.</span></p><p> </p><p>“Unless something radically changes, yeah, I think so.”Fiona said, watching Debbie and Frannie on the couch.Frannie had started to stop crying, but she was still clinging to Debbie like a baby monkey as Debbie snapped photos of them with her phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Does she know how that works, like that she’d be mom in name only?She would have no legal authority over anything related to Frannie?”Mickey asked thinking back to how angry Debbie was about how the teacher had talked to her and her demands they change schools because of it. </p><p> </p><p>“You mean like exactly how things are right now?”Fiona snarked, though the venom was directed at Debbie, not at him.“Yeah, she knows.” </p><p> </p><p>“And everyone worried Ian was the new Monica.”Mickey groaned, running a hand down his face.It was as if all of the Gallaghers had inherited at least one of their parent’s worst qualities.It made Mickey wonder which terrible traits he had inherited from his festering genetic pool.</p><p> </p><p>“She doesn’t see the similarities.”Fiona agreed, putting a hand on Mickey’s shoulder.He suspected it was meant to be reassuring, but it felt like the weight of responsibility. </p><p> </p><p>“Obviously.”Mickey agreed, watching Debbie fiddling with her phone probably posting the pictures she just took to her Instagram or Snapchat.She was going to be a selfie mom and the substantive parenting was going to be left to a depressed bipolar person and an exonerated felon with PTSD. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?I mean, this is a lot to take on.” </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck yeah it is, but what can I do?”Mickey agreed.It pissed him off, but they needed him and a huge part of him needed to be needed.“I love him and I want her to have a good life.”</p><p> </p><p>Of course to Fiona, there was nothing earth shattering about this admission because she assumed it had been this way all along.</p><p> </p><p>To Mickey it felt like an earthquake.  They had always skated right on the edge of true commitment but never dove all the way in.Sometimes life got in the way, but one of them always pulled back at the last second and fucked things up.</p><p> </p><p>There wasn’t room for that sort of indecision or fear anymore.He owed it to Ian, to Frannie, to Yevgeny and to himself to own his feelings and admit this was what he wanted. </p><p> </p><p>“You’ve come a long way, Mickey Milkovich.I’m really proud of you.”Fiona said, pulling him into an uncomfortably tight hug.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?”Vee asked pausing on the landing with a panda shaped suitcase in her hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey said, elbows deep in another batch of bread dough.He was stress baking.He felt like he had opened Pandora’s box admitting to himself he was not going to be able to walk away from this.He couldn’t.This was his ride or die and that scared the fuck out of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Is Ian?”She asked, setting down the suitcase and walking into the kitchen perched atop stilettos Mickey was amazed she could walk in without breaking an ankle.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.He’s fine.”Mickey lied.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s MIA.”She replied, dark eyes staring into him like she could see through him.Maybe she could.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not feeling well.”Mickey replied, the lie buried in the truth.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”She agreed and Mickey had the distinct impression she did not believe him. “The cars are out front.”</p><p> </p><p>He glanced at the clock.They had to leave now to make it to the airport on time.“Oh, right.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a lot of shit to sort out.You know, with Debbie and Frannie.”She said, leaning against the island.“It finally got to him, didn't it?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s just not feeling too good.”Mickey lied again. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, okay.”She clearly did not believe him.</p><p> </p><p>With a sigh, Mickey admitted, “It’s handled.He’s gonna be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>If he could will it into reality he would.He just hoped this time wouldn't be that bad.The memory of Ian from six years ago when he was an unmoving lump loomed large, but he was trying not to think about that.It seemed better than that right now, but he couldn’t be sure and there was no guarantee it wouldn’t get like that.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s amazing you know, you two.”Vee said, cutting into his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling defensive and on edge, Mickey snapped, “What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just, you and Ian give me a serious case of the feels sometimes.”She said with a soft smile that quickly turned into a smirk.“I used to think you were a little shit with no future, but here you are.I mean, look at your life now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.This is awesome.”Mickey snorted, mind stuck on all the things that were wrong.Ian was depressed.Mickey loved him way beyond his ability to protect himself and that scared the fuck out of him.Frannie was a mess and the rickety support system that was Ian’s family was leaving them alone to deal with all of it as best they could.</p><p> </p><p>It was a fuck ton of pressure since both of his gingers needed a lot from him right now and he was still dealing with so much of his own shit he didn’t know if he could do it.</p><p> </p><p>“Wah, wah.” She mimicked a baby crying and then slung an arm around him. “This is temporary.When you get all this settled, boy, you don't even know.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey hoped she was right.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry about not giving you the farmers’ market.  Hope everyone is doing well and sleeping better.  We got this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Parenting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the family left, Mickey scrapped his plans for the farmer’s market and ended up spending the afternoon sitting in the middle of Ian’s massive bed with a very quiet Ian on one side and a very quiet Frannie on the other.Scraggles, the only happy one in the bunch, was sleeping in his lap.</p><p> </p><p>They were watching a Disney Classics marathon which in retrospect had probably not been a good idea since unbeknownst to him <em>Snow White</em>, <em>Sleeping Beauty</em> and the currently running <em>Cinderella</em> all featured dead mommies and super mean step mothers.They also pushed the idea that vulnerable women needed to be rescued by handsome princes that they married immediately out of gratitude.</p><p> </p><p>Unable to take it anymore, he told Frannie, “You know, just ‘cause some guy does something nice for you doesn’t mean you have to marry him, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”She muttered, still focused on the TV.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t ever let a boy make you feel guilty for not letting him touch you or kiss you or whatever just because he paid for lunch or something.”Mickey was well aquatinted with this tactic having employed it himself back when he still slept with girls.He had also watched Mandy fall victim to it more times than he could count.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie looked at him quizzically.“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Something in that look made him worry no one had told her these things.She was five years old and maybe that was too young, but the world sucked and people were fucking evil. He wavered for a moment, not sure if he wanted to step off this particular parenting cliff, but yeah.He had to man up and make sure Frannie knew how to keep herself safe.“You know where the no-fly zones are, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“What are no-fly zones?”She asked as she snuggled in next to him.</p><p> </p><p>“No one touches you here,” He put his hands on his own chest and then moved them down to his crotch, “or here.Ever...or at least not until you’re grown and you want ‘em to, but that’s a long time from now...a very, very <em>long</em> time.Anyway, if anyone ever puts their hands on you in either of those places, you tell me and I will make sure they never touch you or anyone else ever again, got it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Got it.”She nodded firmly.Maybe someone had told her this before after all.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to end it there, but his mind kept running and so did his mouth.“Even if it’s not in a no-fly zone, if someone hugs you or makes you sit in their lap or anything else that makes you feel weird you tell them to knock it off and if they don’t stop when you tell them to you scream bloody murder, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“And then you tell me.”So I can go kill them, he thought but did not say.Anyone who hurt his kids would have hell to pay.He caught Ian looking at him and added, “Or Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”She agreed again.</p><p> </p><p>“No matter what anyone says, I will never get mad at you or blame you if you tell me someone does something to you that you don’t like, okay?They might tell you I will, but I won’t.Neither will Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you love me.”She said, stating it like an undisputed fact.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.” Mickey agreed, still watching Ian watch him.Deciding that conversation had gone pretty well, Mickey checked his watch and sighed.“I gotta go down and start cooking.Wanna come with me, sweet cheeks?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wanna stay and watch movies with Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that okay?”Mickey asked eyeing Ian closely.He was on his side facing them and he had been listening to them talk which was a huge improvement over the last time Mickey had seen Ian depressed.This was nowhere near that bad, but he didn’t know if that would hold.Ian could sink a lot further and Mickey didn’t know what might make it worse.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian agreed, slowly pulling himself up a little in bed.</p><p> </p><p>It looked like effort to Mickey.Not wanting to push it, he tried again, “Babydoll, why don’t we watch movies downstairs?Ian doesn’t feel too good and needs to rest, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”She crawled over Mickey to get to Ian.Putting her tiny arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek, she said, “I hope you feel better soon, Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey paused the movie and smiled, watching Ian slowly hug Frannie back, putting his face in her curls and inhaling.</p><p> </p><p>“Sunday dinner.I’d cancel, but Svet and me are gonna talk to Yev.”Mickey had wanted to wait a week, sort through his finances and figure shit out, but Svetlana had already told Yevgeny they were going to talk to him together about something tonight.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Ian muttered letting go of Frannie and watching her climb off the bed and head out of the room.“Whatever he wants.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna tell them you don’t feel well, okay?”It wasn’t much of a cover since Svetlana and Mandy would see right through it, but there was no need to upset anyone else.What could be done had been done and now there was nothing else to do but wait.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Any requests for dinner?”Mickey would make whatever Ian wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Ian demurred, saying, “Not hungry.”</p><p> </p><p>“You need to eat something.You barely ate breakfast and skipped lunch.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever you make.”Ian said, rolling over on his side with his back to Mickey. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna make salmon cakes with cheesy basil polenta and roasted broccolini. Sound good?”Mickey had made the salmon cakes before and Ian loved them.He wanted Ian to eat and keep his strength up.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Ian agreed lacking his usual pleasure at getting a fish dish.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Mickey agreed feeling helpless.There was nothing he could do to make this easier.All he could do was ride it out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”Ian murmured.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey climbed out of bed and moved around it to face Ian again.He bent down and kissed Ian’s forehead.“I love you, man.It’s okay.You just rest for now.It’s okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian blinked at him, reminding Mickey how long it had been since he kissed him and how rarely he had said those words to Ian’s face.He ruffled Ian’s hair.“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian gave him a small smile.</p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Yev!How are ya, buddy?”Mickey asked, as Yevgeny bounded into the kitchen and hugged him.</p><p> </p><p>“Mama said you have a surprise for me.”Yevgeny said, looking up at him with his arms still tight around Mickey’s middle.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, we do.”Mickey agreed, gently pushing his son back and away from his scar.The nervousness he had felt off and on since talking to Svetlana about this came back with a vengeance.“When she’s here I’ll tell you about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Svetlana walked in carrying a tray of something and nodded at him.“Do you tell Yevgeny surprise yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was waiting for you.”Mickey replied.</p><p> </p><p>“You tell now.”She said as she put the tray in the refrigerator.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked down at his son and blurted out, “So your mom and me were wondering if you would maybe want to stay here with me sometimes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like have my own room and everything?”Yevgeny asked, blue eyes lighting up.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep.You’ll have your own room.We can set it up any way you want.You’d stay here with us for a week and then with your mom for a week and we’d swap at Sunday dinner, how does that sound?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds great!”Yevgeny hooted, dancing round for a minute before he stopped and looked pensively at Svetlana. “But won’t you be lonely, Mama?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have been spoiled to have you all the time.Papa needs to see you too so we share now.”She said, smiling gently.“It is good you spend more time together.”</p><p> </p><p>Yevgeny stared at her hard and Svetlana stared right back.After a long moment that did nothing to help the nervous feeling in the pit of Mickey’s stomach, Yevgeny gave in with a shrug and asked, “Can I pick my room?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yev’s gonna live with us?”Frannie asked as she walked into the kitchen from the living room.</p><p> </p><p>“Every other week starting next Sunday.”Mickey told her.He wasn’t sure how she would take the whole sharing thing since she was an only child and had had exclusive access to him and Ian up until now.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah!”She cried, throwing her arms around Yevgeny and forcing him to dance with her.It was straight out of the Gallagher/Milkovich playbook and made Mickey roll his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Turning back to his son, Mickey told him, “You can have one of the open rooms on the forth floor, Yev.If you want to change some things in it, like paint it or whatever, we can do that too, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, Papa.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you pick your room?”Frannie asked Yevgeny.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”Yevgeny agreed easily.</p><p> </p><p>The kids raced for the stairs trailed by Scraggles as Mickey and Svetlana watched.</p><p> </p><p>“That went pretty good.”Mickey said, nerves starting to calm.He had been scared Yevgeny would say no.</p><p> </p><p>“Sons want to be with their fathers.”Svetlana replied, nostalgia flashing across her face before she changed the subject.“What do we make for dinner?”</p><p> </p><p>“Salmon cakes, cheesy basil polenta and roasted broccolini.”Mickey replied. It was a little more labor intensive than he would have preferred, but he knew, “Ian likes it.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Where is he?”Svetlana asked.</p><p> </p><p>Telling her felt like a betrayal in a way, but Svetlana would figure it out in the morning anyway when Ian didn’t show up for work...or did, but was clearly not himself.“In bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah.”She nodded and then skewered him with icy blue eyes.“Sick or depressed?”</p><p> </p><p>As much as he wanted to, there was no point lying to her. “Depressed.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”She nodded and her expression softened.She leaned on the counter, posture more relaxed as if now that she knew what she was up against it wasn’t a big deal. “Before, I find out when he does not show up to work or does not return phone calls.I come to check and always he is depressed.Now, you are here.You tell me so we can plan until he is well again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t think of that.” Mickey admitted.</p><p> </p><p>She shrugged.“For Yevgeny we are team.For Ian we also must be team.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, guess we sort of have to be, huh?”Mickey realized.It wasn’t just his son that bound him to this woman he had once hated, then tolerated and now grudgingly admired.“Did you ever think it would be like this?”</p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes at him.“Of course not.Home wrecker carrot, I want to kill him.And you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Still sorta surprised you didn’t.”Svetlana was the most resilient person Mickey had ever met.She had been through hell, some of it inflicted by the people she now called family, but she found a way to make the best of it.She always did.Mickey used to think of it as opportunism and cruelty, but the past year had proven to him there was a lot more to her than he had previously assumed.</p><p> </p><p>“What choice have I?You would not part from him.Yevgeny needs father.I need green card.”She said, taking up a knife and starting to clean the broccolini stems.“Also orange boy is good man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey muttered.His ex-wife and Ian were two peas in a pod with their ability to forgive people and see the best in them.</p><p> </p><p>“So are you.”She said, smiling at the cutting board.</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Mickey muttered, thinking of all the ways he had fucked Svetlana over and how no matter how long he lived he would never be able to make it up to her.</p><p> </p><p>He was saved from his morose thoughts by the sound of the front door opening followed by footsteps on the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Mandy.”Mickey greeted as she reached the landing.Then his brother and a girl he didn’t recognize came up behind her.He dried his hands on a towel as he asked, “Iggy. Who’s this?”</p><p> </p><p>With a weird mix of sheepishness and defiance, Iggy made the introductions.“Chelsey, this is Svetlana and my brother Mickey.Guys, this is Chelsey.”</p><p> </p><p>Chelsey was not what Mickey had been expecting.</p><p> </p><p>Iggy usually dated bottle blondes with some meat on them.Chelsey was pretty much the polar opposite.Chelsey was a petite, pretty Asian girl.She was wearing a floral dress that was very feminine which juxtaposed a pair of muscular arms and a stance that made Mickey think they were back at the MMA gym he worked out at sometimes. </p><p> </p><p>She reached out to shake hands with Svetlana first and then Mickey.Her grip was firm and kind of rough given how small and dainty her hands were.“Chelsey Choi.Nice to meet you finally.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.You too.”Mickey said, noting the eager determination on her face.He wasn’t sure how to take that since he associated it with wanting something and he hated needy people but at the same time he wanted to like her since Iggy clearly did.</p><p> </p><p>“Papa!”Yevgeny called out as he ran into the room followed by Frannie and the dog. “I want the room across from Frannie.Is that okay?”</p><p> </p><p>That was his room.Part of him wanted to say no, but another part felt like being pushed out of his comfort zone by his own son was good for him. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> “Absolutely.”  </span></p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t like he was going to leave Ian to sleep alone when he was depressed anyway.The risk was minimal since depressed Ian was an man with no libido, so this was probably as good a time as any to transition back.He caught the way Chelsey was looking at him and forced himself to focus on the moment.He reached out and put his hand on Yevgeny’s shoulders and said, “This is our son, Yev.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mickey?”Frannie asked, tugging on the hem of his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked down at her.“Yeah Frannie?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is Yev my brother now?”She asked. </p><p> </p><p>“Yev is...” Mickey trailed off trying to think of a way to explain the super complicated, nowhere near settled state of their relationship that was based on how his relationship with Ian played out and how shitty her mom was.</p><p> </p><p>Svetlana helped him out by stepping in and telling the little ginger, “Yevgeny is family.We are family.This is enough.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.Okay.”Frannie agreed easily before turning her attention to the new person in the room. “Uncle Iggy, who’s that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, this is my girlfriend.”Iggy said, stumbling a little on the words like saying it out loud was dangerous.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Chelsey.”The petite woman said with a megawatt smile.Clearly the word ‘girlfriend’ wasn’t as scary to her as it was to Iggy.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie’s face broke out into a knowing smile.“Oh, you’re the girl who makes dogs look pretty.Did you see Scraggles?He’s not very pretty.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think Scraggles is really cute though.”Chelsey replied, smiling up at Iggy like she was surprised his family knew about her, and then she allowed herself to be dragged off by the children who wanted to introduce her to their four legged friend.</p><p> </p><p>“She seems cool.” Mickey said.</p><p> </p><p>Iggy looked at him like he’d grown a second head.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Mickey asked.She was pretty, obviously into his brother and nice to the kids and the dog.What wasn’t to like so far?</p><p> </p><p>Iggy rubbed at the back of his neck, “I didn’t expect you to be so...”</p><p> </p><p>“What?You wanted me to be a dick?”Mickey cut him off.Why would he do that?Terry wasn’t there so the rules were different.The goodie two shoes vibe she gave off was no longer a liability. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck no,” Iggy demurred.After a moment of silence he said, “I just figured it would be like back home.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey immediately understood.Terry liked women dependent, desperate and afraid.If he didn’t have control, or if it looked like the woman would have influence over the Milkovich they were dating, Terry torpedoed the relationship.Mickey wasn’t Terry though and it pissed him off Iggy was putting that on him.He snapped, “We’re not in Chicago and <em>you</em> aren’t a Milkovich anymore.We do things different up here.If she’s good enough for you, she’s good enough for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Iggy visibly relaxed.“I really like her.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s gaze went back out into the living room where Chelsey was being introduced to Scraggles.She was an odd mix of soft and hard, petite but powerful...and her arms.Damn, she was fit.“She a fighter?”</p><p> </p><p>“Former gymnast.”Iggy said, smiling like the goofy dope he was.“Still works out like one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bet that makes for some wild nights.”</p><p> </p><p>Iggy’s smile turned lustful.“You have no idea.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I cannot believe the build up to this nothingburger.”Chelsey said, taking a sip of her wine.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”Mandy asked.They were sitting at the kitchen table waiting for Mickey and Svetlana to finish making dinner.</p><p> </p><p>“I was terrified to meet your brother.”Chelsey replied, shaking her head.“Iggy made him sound like an attack dog.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy laughed.The old Mickey would have been indifferent unless their father implied it was his job to act as relationship ender.Even then, Mickey had never been an enthusiastic pawn in their father’s efforts to maintain control.She rolled her eyes.“I’ve always thought of him more like a chihuahua, all bark, tiny bite.”</p><p> </p><p>Chelsey, an aficionado of dogs, disagreed. “Nah, he’s more like an pit bull.Bad reputation, intimidating exterior, but just a sweetie pie nanny dog on the inside.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that’s Mickey.”Mandy agreed, surprised a stranger was able to reach that conclusion so quickly.Mickey’s edges were dulling, but usually it took a while longer for people to see through him. </p><p> </p><p>Mandy had had no opinion one way or the other about Chelsey until now.In this moment, she decided she liked her.“So, dog grooming, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“After a lot of fussing, yeah.My parents wanted an Olympian, but I was barely good enough to get a college scholarship.I studied chemistry with the intention of going to pharmacy school.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a long way from dog grooming.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s very hard to disappoint Korean parents.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Mandy muttered, wondering how owning her own business could be a disappointment for Chelsey’s parents.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a really long story, but the short version is I met a boy, let him ruin my life and learned a whole lot about consequences and personal responsibility before I figured out who I am, what I want and how to be happy.It’s not the kind of life my parents wanted for me, but so what?I enjoy what I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can relate.”Mandy said, pouring herself another glass of wine.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re an event planner, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mandy confirmed.She was semi surprised Chelsey knew that since in the old days Milkoviches did not talk to fuck buddies about their family.It was amazing how different things were that Iggy was comfortable telling a stranger about his siblings.</p><p> </p><p>“Bet you have some bridezilla stories.”Chelsey said, smiling.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah.You think the women on that show were bad, holy hell can things be worse.”It was the combination of money, entitlement and the fight for control between bride, parents and in-laws that made it so much more dramatic.Trying to find common ground that pleased everyone was the part she hated most.What she loved, was making the seemingly impossible possible.For all the drama and ridiculousness, she had not had a bad outcome since the early days as a trainee.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s the gamer?”Chelsey asked, cutting into her thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>“Ian isn’t feeling well.” Mandy hedged.</p><p> </p><p>“Sick or depressed?”Chelsey asked.</p><p> </p><p>That pissed her off.It was one thing to talk about jobs and stuff.It was a whole different thing to air dirty laundry.“Iggy told you that?”</p><p> </p><p>Chelsey shrugged.“My younger sister is schizophrenic.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit.” Bipolar was bad.Mandy imagined schizophrenia was much worse.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s super smart and really creative.She has an Etsy store with all sorts of stuff on it that she makes by hand.When she’s on her meds she’s great, but when she goes off them it’s awful.”Chelsey continued, watching her.</p><p> </p><p>“I get it.”Mandy said, because while they weren’t the same, a severe manic episode brought delusions and auditory and visual hallucinations that seemed real enough to Ian.It had been a long time since Ian had an episode that bad, but Mandy would never forget it.</p><p> </p><p>“You just have to love them through it and help them get back on track.”Chelsey said.“It’s just a bump in the road, not the end of the world.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right.”With the right support structure, mental illness was manageable.Thinking of which, she decided she would go up and check on Ian.“I’ll be back in a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Ian.Just wanted to see if you need anything.”Mandy said when the bedroom door clicked open.She usually found out he was having an episode because he stopped calling her back or didn’t show up for something or Svetlana told her.</p><p> </p><p>Then she and Svetlana coordinated between themselves to ensure someone checked in on him to make sure he was eating and taking his meds.Now, they didn’t have to do that anymore since Mickey was living with him, but old habits died hard.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”He said, rolling over to face her.“Just tired.”</p><p> </p><p>That was a good sign at least.He was moving and he was willing to look at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”She nodded.When he was down, even the simplest things exhausted him.He said everything felt heavy, like gravity had caved in on him weighing him down. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>It broke her heart. On top of the weight of his depression he burdened himself with guilt about being depressed as if it was something he could control but failed to do.It was such a vicious circle with the guilt feeding his depression and the depression feeding his guilt. </p><p> </p><p>She walked over to the bed and sat down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.“No need to be sorry, Ian.Just rest until you feel better.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighed and closed his eyes.“Is Mickey okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.He’s good.Yev is excited to get to stay with you guys.”Mandy wondered if they would have to put that off for a bit until Ian was feeling better.It would be better to change his environment when he was stable and able to adapt to it.“Iggy brought his girlfriend over.She’s really different for him, but I like her so far.”</p><p> </p><p>“I should come down.”Ian said, slowly moving to sit up.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy wanted to slap herself.She should not have put that pressure on him.“If you want to, but you don’t have to.She understands.”</p><p> </p><p>“You told her?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian didn’t care people knew he was bipolar, he had outed that himself, but it upset him when people knew he was having an episode.“Iggy did, but it’s okay.She really does understand.Her sister is schizophrenic.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”He said again, giving up on sitting up.</p><p> </p><p>She hoped she didn’t just upset him more by equating the two.In her mind, schizophrenia was way worse than bipolar, but she had no basis for that assumption other than the movies.She hoped she had not just pushed him down further. “Nothing to be sorry for.You just rest and feel better, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.”He replied quietly, rolling over so his back was to her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Terrible place to leave it, I know, but this is sort of what bipolar depression feels like to me in my experience with my brother.  You know you cannot make it better, but you can make it worse. It’s like a helpless cliffhanger that drags on for days or weeks as you worry yourself sick becuase you’ve seen how bad it can get.  </p><p>So, I leave you with a week of anxiety.  Sorry, not sorry. 😉</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Group</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mickey finally goes to group....please just skip if you have triggers around rape.  It doesn’t change the coming narrative.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***TRIGGER WARNING***</p><p>***Please skip to the very end where there is a little snippet that is safe to read.  It is clearly marked.***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Mickey inhaled a deep breath and pushed through the door.He had taken an Ativan on the way here and had the pill box in his shirt pocket since he was pretty sure he was going to need another one.</p><p> </p><p>His guts were a rolling, liquid sea of nausea, but he was determined to push through it.He had put this off long enough and even though he had the excuse of Ian’s depression, he needed to just get this over with.It was time.</p><p> </p><p>If he ever wanted his life back, he had to do this.</p><p> </p><p>As he entered the room, people looked up at him, some nodded, some said hello.The start of group was always an awkward gathering around the coffee pot and doughnuts.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed walked in, right on time like clockwork.“If everyone would like to take their seats please.”</p><p> </p><p>People shuffled around finding their chairs as if they were assigned.They weren’t, but people were territorial in forums like this where control was limited and trust was required.</p><p> </p><p>“First, does anyone have anything they would like to share.”He looked over at Mickey, expectant.They had talked about how today was the day.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded and pulled out the pill box putting another Ativan under his tongue.His hands were shaking.He heaved a sigh and said, “Yeah.I...ah...I guess I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Very well.”Dr. Mohammed leaned back in his chair and looked around the group.“I would remind all of you of the rules for sharing and listening.”</p><p> </p><p>There were nods and muttered agreements as eager eyes turned to look at him.Mickey had never shared.They had to be dying of curiosity after all this time.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s eyes went to the wall where the rules were posted.Then his eyes fell to the floor.“Suppose I should have done this a while back.You all did, I just...I mean you know, obviously since we’re here, but...”</p><p> </p><p>He trailed off.They were all here because they had all been raped.They knew his secret.What he was telling them was the details.That was all.Still staring at the floor he said, “So, I know Dr. Mo from prison.I did five and a half years before I was exonerated, so no criminal record, but fuck did it do a number on me.”</p><p> </p><p>No one said anything and he glanced up at Dwayne, the guy who had been raped multiple times in prison because he had been young, small and easy prey.“You were in prison.You get it.You know.”</p><p> </p><p>Dwayne nodded, looking at the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had been little different, he realized, young and small with only his name to protect him...until it didn’t.At a loss for words, Mickey muttered, “I don’t know where to start.”</p><p> </p><p>“At the beginning, Mickey, when you’re ready.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gay.You know that.”He said.What they didn’t know, was, “My pops is a raging homophobe.Not the ignore it and it’ll go away kind, the send ‘em to conversion camp kind or the disowning kind.He’s way worse than any of that.”</p><p> </p><p>He trailed off, unsure what to say next.It was hard to know what to say when his thoughts were bouncing around his skull like butterflies trying to escape.The next thing that fluttered out was, “I have a kid.I know I mentioned him before.”</p><p> </p><p>Then nothing.Not a word.Why had he brought up Yevgeny?</p><p> </p><p>Because he was starting at the beginning and it started there.“I was 17.My dad walked in on me and my boyfriend fucking.He completely lost his shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“He beat the hell out of us and brought in a prostitute to ‘fuck me straight’.Held us all at gunpoint.I fucked her because if I didn’t he was gonna kill Ian.Ian had to watch me fuck her.I had to watch him watch me fuck her.It was...it was...” Awful.Terrible.Hideous. Brutal.There were no words.</p><p> </p><p>He skipped ahead.“She got pregnant. She was a hooker, so who really knows, but the kid looks like me and I fucking love him, so there’s that.We had a shotgun wedding.It was a total shit show, but it was nothing compared to what happened later.Like, if that was all there was, I wouldn’t be in this room talking to you people.I could live with that.”</p><p> </p><p>“How?”Matthew asked quietly.He didn’t sound like he was expecting an answer, but Mickey gave him one anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“My pops was physically violent since I was a kid.It was always that way, so to me it was just Tuesday, you know?The part that made it different from all the other shit was how it effected Ian.He took it way harder than I did and I couldn’t deal with his emo shit.I was just trying to survive and keep him from getting killed.It fucked up our relationship which set off his bipolar and...that’s another story.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stopped and took a deep breath.He wasn’t here to air Ian’s dirty laundry.They all signed nondisclosure agreements before they could participate in group.None of them could legally talk about the members of group, what happened to them or anything like that, but still it felt wrong.This wasn’t about Ian.It was about him and his father.</p><p> </p><p>“I was fucking miserable, but I managed to keep up the act until my pops got arrested and sent back to prison.Then Ian and me got back together...sort of...but it all fell apart when my pops got out again.My wife knew I was gay and in love with Ian.She was holding it over my head, saying she’d out me to my pops if I didn’t do what she wanted.Ian hated being a side piece and was threatening to leave me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I ended up coming out the night my kid was christened.Stupidest thing I ever did, but I just couldn’t take it anymore.If I was gonna be outed it was going to be on my terms and I didn't want Ian to leave.My pops went ballistic, huge bar fight with him and my uncles.Terrible fucking night but my pops broke his parole so he got locked up again which bought me a little time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Life was awkward as hell after that.Lots of shit happened with the kid and Ian’s bipolar got worse, but at the same time, we were together so, I dunno, it was okay.As okay as anything ever was back then, I guess.”He shrugged.Ian said he had liked all of them living together, but he had been manic at the time.Mickey had a love/hate relationship with that time in his life.It was the freest he had ever been, but at the same time he had known without doubt it was going to end in flames.He had not been wrong.</p><p> </p><p>“I ended up in prison not long after that.The first year wasn’t that bad, but then my pops got transferred in and put on my block.Then shit got real bad, real fast.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was psychological and physical torture mostly, but you can’t beat the gay out of someone.”Mickey said, remembering the first three trips to the ICU.If none of that had done it, nothing would, except maybe, “Then he went back to his old playbook and tried to fuck the gay out of me.”</p><p> </p><p>He stopped talking and just sat there in the silence for a moment.The next words had been spoken to only two people who he implicitly trusted.These people... </p><p> </p><p>Say it.Just get it over with.“Seven of his skinhead army raped me while he fucking watched. Shoved a pipe so far up my ass they bruised my diaphragm.I can still feel it...sometimes.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a sharp inhale of breath from somewhere to his right but no one said anything.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey rubbed hard at his side, the pain was all in his head, but fuck.“That did it, you know?That did it.He won.Left me with PTSD so bad just wiping my own ass could set off a panic attack.I fought like a fucking banshee if someone so much as touched me when I wasn’t expecting it, but I still tried to do what I always did, you know?Tried to force it into a box, compartmentalize it like I did with everything else.”</p><p> </p><p>“I spent a long time in the hospital afterward, it fucked me up so bad.Finished a degree because Dr. Mo wouldn’t let me quit.No one in my family ever did that before.Finally got my appeal hearing and was exonerated.When I got released, I beelined it up here, got a job and tried to get on with my new life, but this was just too fucking big.”</p><p> </p><p>He had done a pretty good job ignoring it for the first few months in New York, but Ian...fucking Ian.“I had some serious orthopedic issues left over from the beatings and had to have my hip replaced, ended up at Ian’s house to recuperate and then there was just no compartmentalizing anymore.I couldn’t hold it in.So I hooked back up with Dr. Mo and now I’m here, telling you people shit I would have rather taken to my grave.”</p><p> </p><p>After a long moment of silence, Dr. Mohammed asked, “Is there anything else you would like to add Mickey?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” He shook his head, mentally trying to prepare himself for the onslaught of questions he knew was coming.</p><p> </p><p>“It was very brave of you to share this with the group.I know it wasn’t easy for you to do.”Dr. Mohammed said.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy fuck, man.I thought I had it bad, but damn.”That was Tommy who had been roofied and raped in a toilet stall at a gay club four years ago.</p><p> </p><p>“We are not here to compare traumas, Tommy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, but...”</p><p> </p><p>“I feel like a punk whining about my shit after hearing that.”That was Bradley who had been molested and raped by his step father.</p><p> </p><p>“Again, we are not comparing traumas. These are individual experiences that effect each person in a unique way.How we process through emotions about these events is different due to a variety of factors both innate and learned.”</p><p> </p><p>It made Mickey angry.He wasn’t having a pissing contest about who suffered more.“It’s about control.It’s about humiliation.Thresholds for that shit are gonna be different, right?What happened to me sounds so much worse to you because your normal and my normal are nowhere near the same.”</p><p> </p><p>“I lived through something similar to the first event you described when I was 14 and here I am 20 years later, totally fucked up, and you’re like, no biggie.”Matthew said.</p><p> </p><p>“What fucking choice did I have?” Feeling judged, Mickey jumped up and glared down at the fat fuck who was still whining about 20 year old shit rather than living his goddamn life.</p><p> </p><p>“Gentlemen.Please.Be respectful.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously, though.”Mickey growled, before spewing out, “I grew up on Chicago’s Southside, poor white trash running guns, drugs, and whores across state lines for my dad.My mom was a 13 year old mail order bride who grew up to be a junky. She ODed when I was 14.I found her.My pops beat the shit out of us if we did anything, and I mean anything, he didn’t like.No one in my family since they immigrated from Ukraine finished fucking high school.I was the first in three generations and only because this asshole made me.I’m still alive for two reasons: this man believed in me and Ian...I fucking love him and we are going to get our happy fucking ending if I have to die trying.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus.”Someone said as Mickey deflated, anger spent.Was a happy ending really too much to ask?Had he not earned one?He sank back down into his chair.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“You are one strong little motherfucker, you know that?”Dwayne said, patting him on the back as Mickey tried to shrug off the touch, offended someone Dwayne’s size was calling him little.</p><p> </p><p>“Is he still in prison?” Someone else asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“What will you do if he gets out?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dunno.I try not to think about it.”Which was an honest answer.Terry would come for him.He knew that.He knew he would defend himself and his family if it came down to it, but after a lot of soul searching, the proactive murder that would save him a world of pain was something he just could not do.He didn’t have it in him, which was a <em>good</em> thing.It was a <em>normal</em> thing.It was also a very dangerous thing where Terry Milkovich was concerned.He hoped like hell his old man would just fucking die in prison.</p><p> </p><p>“You and Ian are still together though, right?”Tommy asked. “You’ve talked about him before.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sort of.”Mickey said, talking about Ian being marginally easier than thinking about his father. “We live together because we’re fostering his niece, but it’s more of a roommate situation right now.I got issues.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t we all.”Someone said.</p><p> </p><p>“He knows about what happened to you?”Matthew asked.He had recently told his girlfriend about what had happened to him as a boy.She had not understood (like so many didn’t) that it could be traumatizing for a boy to be raped by a woman. Her inability to take it seriously had driven a wedge between them eventually causing them to break up.It made sense he would ask.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, he knows.”Mickey said, feeling heavy.He wanted to give Ian everything he deserved, but couldn’t. That was why he was here.“It makes things hard for him, figuring out where the lines are drawn when I don’t know myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hear you.It’s why I can’t keep a relationship. I want the intimacy, but when I get it, I can’t handle it.”Tommy said.He was a very attractive man, successful, smart, and funny.He drew people to himself, but never kept them long.The second things got too emotional or even marginally sexual it all fell apart.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.”Mickey knew how that felt.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t get what the big deal is.I have sex all the time.”Cory said.He had been molested and raped by one of his mother’s boyfriends when he was 12.Unlike Mickey, Matthew and Tommy, Cory fucked anything that moved.He was sexually omnivorous, men, women, topping, bottoming, kink, he did it all.He also liked talking about it.</p><p> </p><p>“Fucking around isn’t what we’re talking about here.We’re talking about intimacy.”Mickey thought Cory’s sex life was a form of self punishment and had said as much several times, but Cory preferred the pretext it made him stronger than the guys for whom sex was a goal, not a given.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re just scratching an itch without treating the rash.”Matthew said, the annoyance on his face mirrored on Tommy’s.</p><p> </p><p>Cory was not to be shut up.“I don’t get why who you fuck is such a big deal.I mean, your dad’s been in and out of prison for years.Prison gay is a thing, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not if you take it.”Dwayne muttered.“Then you’re just a bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>“Liking what I like don’t make me a bitch.”Mickey snapped, watching as eyes around him grew wider like their opinions of him had just changed.No one else in group had admitted to preferring to bottom before. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck them.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it does not.”Dr. Mohammed agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah well, I definitely don’t like it.What does that make me?” Dwayne asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Your sexuality is not defined by a single sex act or even multiple sex acts and especially not when they were against your will.”</p><p> </p><p>“What woman would want a man who’s had dicks in his ass?” Dwayne asked this at least once every session because he did not believe the answer no matter how many times he heard it.</p><p> </p><p>“Dwayne, there is a difference between an event and a definition.Whether an event <em>becomes</em> a definition is up to you.”Dr. Mohammed gave the usual answer to the question.Then he added, “I would also ask that you consider one in three women is sexually assaulted during her lifetime.The other two know someone who has been.To assume no woman will ever be able to disassociate what happened to you from who you are is a disservice to women.”</p><p> </p><p>That generated some discussion among the straights in the group which Mickey largely ignored.Acceptance from women and the difference between sexual experiences and sexual preference were not his problem.It alternately bored and annoyed him listening to straight men whine about how no one would want them because a gay thing had happened to them. </p><p> </p><p>Sometimes he thought he’d be better off in a group full of straight women since their sexuality wasn’t in question.It was what they liked that had been ruined for them, just like it had been for him.Talking to people who understood what it was like to take someone into their body, how it felt, what it meant, he did not get that from therapy or group.</p><p> </p><p>He was completely zoned out when Dr. Mohammed turned to him.“Mickey, we are nearing the end of our time together.How are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tired.”He replied.As Dr. Mohammed had predicted, what had felt like the end of the world to him, mattered little to the other men in the room.It was just one more shitty thing in a sea of shitty things that all of them had endured and tried to deal with.“Relieved, I guess.Got it over with.”</p><p> </p><p>“This was a big step.I’m proud of you.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>***TRIGGER WARNING END***</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was bone tired.Dragging himself up the stairs to the third floor required hanging on to the railing to help pull himself up. </p><p> </p><p>He had known he would be tired after he told his story in group, but he had not known the emotional exhaustion would be so physically intense.</p><p> </p><p>He finally made it to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed fully dressed.He was not going to sleep on the uncomfortable as hell pullout tonight. </p><p> </p><p>Ian turned his head to look at him.“Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>His voice was so quiet Mickey almost didn’t hear him.“Yeah.Just pooped.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Ian snuggled back down in the bed with his back still turned.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was fine with that.He felt too raw and too tired to have the finesse necessary to deal with Ian’s depression right now. </p><p> </p><p>He kicked off his shoes marveling at the effort required to do so.He undid his pants and shimmied gracelessly out of them until he was down to his boxers and tee shirt.He didn’t even bother with the covers since he’d have to get up to do that and instead grabbed for the blanket that lived on the foot of the bed and pulled it up over himself.</p><p> </p><p>Without further ado, sleep took him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was working on Christmas gifts (I make them every year) when I realized it had gone from 9am to 4:30pm in the blink of an eye.  </p><p>The comparison described here is based on my own experience in a group I participated in.  Of all the hours spent there, this is the experience I remember best.  I’m sure there are other, healthier ways this could have gone, but, we write from what we know.  This is what I know.</p><p>Thanks for reading!  Hope everyone had a safe Thanksgiving!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Adjusting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ian was still sleeping when Mickey woke up because Frannie was pounding on the bedroom door from outside and Scraggles was scratching at it from inside.</p><p> </p><p>He was still wiped out.He reached for his phone and realized Frannie should have been at school an hour ago and he should already be at the office.</p><p> </p><p>“Hang on, sweet cheeks, I’m coming!” He called out, willing his tired muscles to move. Ian did not stir.</p><p> </p><p>He sat on the side of the bed for a second then stood up.He went to the door smoothing down his hair when he opened the door and the dog ran out.</p><p> </p><p>Frannie greeted him with balled up little fists firmly pressed into her hips and her chin raised just like a pissed off Ian.“You scared me.Why didn’t you answer the door?”</p><p> </p><p>Thinking how alike they were made him smile.“I was still sleeping.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s really late and I’m hungry!”She stamped her foot to emphasize her point.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost funny how owned he was by this kid, but what was cute now, wouldn’t be in a couple years.Thinking about who he wanted her to be, not the sassy adorableness she was now, he frowned. “Frannie.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna miss school though,” she whined.</p><p> </p><p>He was glad she wanted to go to school.When he had been her age it was the only safe place he’d had.He had hated weekends as a child, but as he got older and his father started to see him as useful, he spent less and less time at school. </p><p> </p><p>Frannie didn’t need the safe space like he had, but she liked going and she was sharp as a tack.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> She had advantages and opportunities he never could have dreamed of and he wanted her to go for it.  He wanted her to dream big and reach as far as her intellect and imagination could take her and that started with enjoying learning.  </span>“You’re going to be late for school, but we’ll get there.I’ll make breakfast,” which was going to be cereal. “You ready to go otherwise?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>He looked her over.She had gotten herself dressed which on weekends could be pretty interesting so he was thanking god for school uniforms right now. All he had to do was fix her hair.“Go grab your brush and whatever bow you want to wear.I’ll meet you in the kitchen in five minutes, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.Is Ian coming?”</p><p> </p><p>“He still doesn’t feel well, so let’s let him sleep, yeah?”Mickey told her.It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the truth.</p><p> </p><p>“Poor Ian.”She said, shaking her head.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey didn’t want her to be sad or worried so he told her what he hoped was true.“He’s getting better.We just have to be patient.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s patient?”She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s like waiting without complaining.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.I can do that.”She nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Good.Go get your hair stuff.”He ruffled her hair for emphasis and started down the stairs to find the breakfast cereal which was only used in emergencies.</p><p> </p><p>15 minutes later they were in the car on their way to Frannie’s school.He called the admin office to apologize for how late she was.He also called in sick to work.He needed a mental health day.</p><p> </p><p>“Bye, Mickey!”She called out waving at him as she went inside. </p><p> </p><p>He waved back through the open car window.He had not bothered to get dressed for this so he wasn’t getting out of the car.He was going straight back to bed when he got home.</p><p> </p><p>Or he thought he was. </p><p> </p><p>Ian was in the kitchen when he walked in.He was wrapped in a blanket and his hair was a fright wig, but he was up.“Did you take Frannie to school like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“So?”Mickey asked, looking down at his rumpled tee shirt and boxer shorts. “I didn’t get out of the car.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t you going to work?”Ian asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Called in sick.”Mickey replied through a yawn.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sick?”Ian asked looking at him hard.</p><p> </p><p>“No.Just really, really tired.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, you’re getting sick.”Ian inferred, shuffling close enough to put the back of his hand on Mickey’s forehead.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey ducked away.“No, man. I finally shared in group last night.It fucking wiped me out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Ian said, leaning against the kitchen island like it was holding him up.“Was it as bad as you thought it would be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty fucking awful, but at least it’s done.”Mickey said, not wanting to think about it. Dr. Mohammed had told him today would be hard, but so far he just felt exhausted, not raw like he had expected.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“What for?”Mickey asked.None of this was Ian’s fault.</p><p> </p><p>“Being such a sad sack.”Ian said, pulling the blanket tighter around his bare shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude, sad sack is what I need today.”Mickey just wanted to sleep.“I wanna get some coffee, order in some breakfast and spend the day semi comatose in bed until it’s time to go get the kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>You</em> want to order in.You?”Ian asked, looking up at him, a tiny smile on his face.“Are you sure you’re not dying?”</p><p> </p><p>“You got jokes.Funny.”Mickey snarked back, but he was happy Ian had the energy to joke.That was a good sign, he thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Brunch does sound good.”</p><p> </p><p>He also had an appetite.Maybe Ian really was starting to feel better. “You gonna run?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think so.Not today.”Ian said, slumping.“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, so maybe not yet.Mickey looked at him, wishing there was a way he could just snap his fingers and make it better.He knew he couldn’t, but he could give Ian something he knew the taller man wanted.“Come here and hug me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Ian asked, looking at him, unsure.</p><p> </p><p>For a second Mickey doubted himself.He had a lot of feelings simmering close to the surface, but other than being overwhelmingly tired, he felt okay.Decision made, Mickey opened his arms and made grabby hand gestures.“I need a fucking hug.Get your big orangutan ass over here.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian shuffled over and put his arms around him. </p><p> </p><p>In the six days since he hit this sinker (as Ian called it) he had not showered.Mickey’s response to that almost tangible Ian smell was visceral.He took a huge, deep breath of Ian stink and it reminded him of sex which...maybe this was a bad idea.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was oblivious.He just slumped against Mickey and rested his chin on his shoulder.“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>It was such a little thing, just a hug.He took a deep breath and let it out, reining in his thoughts which had started to scatter.Ian needed this.“I really wish you’d stop it with the sorry shit.You have nothing to be sorry for.”</p><p> </p><p>He focused on rubbing circles on Ian’s back through the blanket.Ian’s arms were around him, his scent deep in Mickey’s nostrils, his chin resting on Mickey’s shoulder as he breathed slow like maybe he was falling asleep standing there.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s hand travelled into Ian’s hair trying to smooth down curls that rebounded after every pass.It took a blow drier or a flat iron and a serious amount of effort and product to force those curls into submission.Ian took forever in the mornings messing with his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Will you get me an omelette like I like?”Ian asked, breaking the silence.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey smiled at the sheer domesticity of knowing exactly how Ian liked his omelettes and what one of his favorite morning cheats was.“And a croissant?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian nodded into his shoulder. “Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sighed.He was not going to get Ian to stop apologizing.He was just going to have to ignore it so he didn’t get annoyed by it.He drew his arms around until his hands were on Ian’s chest and he gently pushed the taller man away from him.“I’ll order food if you want to go get a shower.”</p><p> </p><p>“I smell, huh?”Ian asked, raising an arm and sniffing.</p><p> </p><p>“A little.” Mickey replied even though he mostly liked the smell, he wanted to be as free from triggers as possible if they were just going to hang around in bed all day like he planned.</p><p> </p><p>Ian put his arm down and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.“Okay.I’m...”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey cut him off. “You are not sorry.No more sorries.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian nodded and headed for the stairs. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey placed an order with his favorite boulangerie and since it didn’t deliver, sent a car from the service to pick the food up while choosing not to acknowledge how lazy or entitled even having the option to do that was. </p><p> </p><p>Then he went upstairs and changed the sheets thinking about how much grossness this bed had seen between them and how sad it was that none of it was sex related.</p><p> </p><p>He was putting the pillows back on the bed when Ian stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and water droplets covering his skin like glittery freckles making Mickey think of the stupid vampires from the <em>Twilight</em> movie he’d watched with Mandy one time.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was fucking beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>Oblivious to Mickey’s appreciative gaze, Ian walked past him into the closet.When he came out he was dressed in boxers and a wife beater. If Mickey didn’t know he was depressed, he might think Ian was trying to turn him on, but that wasn’t what was happening.Ian was just wearing what he wore to bed in the summer.</p><p> </p><p>Mildred announced someone was at the door, breaking Mickey’s stare down with Ian’s underwear. “Be right back.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey tipped the driver and carried the food back into the kitchen where he plated it and put it on a tray to carry upstairs.He filled an insulated carafe with coffee and balanced it on the tray.</p><p> </p><p>When he got back to their room, Ian was already in bed.He had the blankets pulled up to his chin, but he was semi upright, propped up on pillows.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey put the tray on the bed and slid it over toward the middle before climbing in himself and reaching for his plate.</p><p> </p><p>Ian ate all of this breakfast, which was good.Mickey had not been very hungry, but he finished his eggs benedict. </p><p> </p><p>As the food coma started to set in he drifted off to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>When he woke up, Ian was spooned against his back.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey went rigid fighting the urge to shove Ian away and leap out of bed.Ugly shadows danced on the edge of his consciousness, but he willed himself still, forcing himself to assess the situation and breathe through it, trying to hang onto reality. </p><p> </p><p>This was <em>Ian</em>. </p><p> </p><p>He had woken up knowing it was Ian.That was progress.The arm draped over his ribs and the hand on his chest were not holding him down.They were just resting there.The knees tucked up behind his were not prodding or prying.The torso leaning against his back was moving in the slow rhythm of sleep.This was just Ian cuddling him like he was a fucking teddy bear. </p><p> </p><p>It was okay. </p><p> </p><p>It was just Ian.</p><p> </p><p>It was okay.</p><p> </p><p>He forced his muscles to relax and focused on his breathing, slow and deep, calming down.He was okay.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed and Ian’s arm tightened around him for a moment almost undoing the work Mickey had put in to not panicking, but then it relaxed and Ian’s face nuzzled into Mickey’s back.</p><p> </p><p>It was so bizarre to be someone else’s place of comfort, but Mickey was that for Ian.Maybe that was all love really was.Mickey wasn’t sure.</p><p> </p><p>He put his hand over Ian’s on his chest and squeezed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>COVID is going nuts in my world.  We always run a high census (heads in beds) this time of year, but we averaged 105% capacity this past week. Our ED has had between 28 - 50 patients held there waiting for a bed.  We’ve opened part of PACU as inpatient beds to try and help off load the ED.  </p><p>Another problem we have is staffing.  I have been exposed twice in the last week to COVID positive staff members.  I’ve lost track of the mass exposures on my unit at this point.  It’s around 10.  We have staff who have gotten sick and a ton of people in quarantine.  We are running short on my unit but it’s worse on other units.  So far, I’m still okay, but some of my coworkers aren’t.  It feels like it’s just a matter of time.  Will the vaccine be available before I get COVID?  No idea.  Hope so.</p><p>Speaking of vaccines, I know a lot of people are suspicious about taking it for a variety of reasons.  There’s the usual antivax BS, but on top of that there’s a lot of misinformation and a general unease among people likely to vaccinate because the CDC and FDA under Trump have been sketchy to say the least.  </p><p>I’m feeling a lot better about it now.</p><p>I feel like there are adults in the room again since Biden has started his transition.  He’s bringing on experienced, competent people to deal with the pandemic.  Within the CDC and FDA the careerists who have outlasted multiple administrations have started talking and pushing back against Trump’s sycophant appointees.  Other countries (with better governments) are also moving forward with these vaccines.</p><p>My personal risk/reward profile is such that I will be taking the vaccine when it becomes available.</p><p>Anyway, hope everyone is doing well and safe.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Terrible Timing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ian was fighting through it. </p><p> </p><p>The first week he was a lump, but then he dragged himself out of bed and tried to get back to normal.Most days he got dressed and went outside like he was going to run though Mickey didn’t think he went very far.He went to work more days than he didn’t and no one from Claymore said anything, so maybe they bought it or maybe they were just used to it.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey didn’t know, but <em>he</em> noticed. </p><p> </p><p>Ian was quieter and lower energy than usual.Everything he did was done at half speed, like gravity weighed especially heavy on him, holding him down.Mickey could see the struggle and the exhaustion it caused.Ian was sleeping a lot more to compensate.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was still in Ian’s room, sleeping in his monster sized bed.His stuff was hung up in the closet and back in it’s old drawers. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> He had not planned it this way, but he had basically moved back in.</span></p><p> </p><p>He felt like he needed to be with Ian as much as possible even if Ian ignored him, which to Mickey’s surprise, he mostly didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>That was weird too since Ian had wanted nothing to do with him or anyone else the last time Mickey has seen him truly depressed, but a lot had changed since then.Ian had years of therapy under his belt and the medications he took prevented him from bottoming out.It was better this time, manageable.</p><p> </p><p>Another weird feature was how it was changing the intimacy between them.It was like physical contact grounded Ian somehow.Mickey didn’t really understand it and at first struggled with it, but like most things in his life it got easier with repetition.</p><p> </p><p>The timing was kind of perfect, too.Ian’s libido was basically zero, so the renewed physical contact was devoid of sexual energy making it easier for Mickey to deal with. </p><p> </p><p>By the time Ian started really pulling out of his depression, Mickey was much more comfortable with Ian’s hands on him.He got used to the lean ins, the hugs, even the spooning.He no longer had to force himself to relax into it. </p><p> </p><p>He still woke up scared sometimes, but the fight or flight response he once had to being touched while sleeping had subsided into an anxiety driven assessment of the arms around him that ebbed away once he realized it was just Ian.</p><p> </p><p>Another thing he was getting used to was Ian’s hands on his scars.Mickey didn’t think Ian knew how much he touched them, but Ian’s hands seemed to seek them out. </p><p> </p><p>Probably it was because the scars were new to him and he was unconsciously trying to normalize them.Regardless of why, it was weird and at first Mickey hated it.He didn’t like touching them himself so having someone else’s hands on them was super uncomfortable at first.He endured it because he didn’t know how rejecting the unwanted touch would effect Ian’s depression.Now, while he still didn’t like it, it wasn’t so bad.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was rubbing on the scar just under his ribs, which was probably why Mickey was thinking about them. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had never told Ian how he got the scar, hadn’t wanted to, but the words just flowed out.“I got stabbed.Three times in the back.It was the first week after my dad was put on my cell block.I didn’t see who did it, but he made sure I knew he was behind it.Motherfucker.Anyway, my lung collapsed, then it filled with blood and they couldn’t drain it or get it to re-inflate right or something so I ended up with half a lung on this side.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Ian breathed into his hair as he stopped touching the scar to wrap his arms around Mickey and pull him in closer.“My god.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s why I quit smoking.”Mickey continued, pushing at one of Ian’s hands to make him loosen his grip. </p><p> </p><p>He still missed smoking sometimes, but not enough to risk it.He had a lot of physical issues, but so far none that had made much impact on his overall health.Yet.The half lung, partial bowel resection, joint damage and multiple concussions probably would eventually, so he had to be smart now to minimize problems later.</p><p> </p><p>“I wondered why you quit.”Ian admitted, voice quiet.“I always imagined you’d be smoking through your tracheotomy with half your face rotted off before you’d quit.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.It was true.He never would have quit if not for this specific confluence of events.</p><p> </p><p>They were quiet for a long time during which Mickey assumed Ian was processing what he’d told him.Since Ian was Mr. Fix-it, Mickey figured plans were now being made for his long term health.He’d probably be dragged out running or something in the very near future. </p><p> </p><p>Musing on his cardiovascular health, he was a little surprised when Ian changed the subject by asking, “We get Yev tomorrow, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it’ll be our first week with two kids.”He and Svetlana had decided to wait until Ian was on the upswing before Yevgeny moved in with them. </p><p> </p><p>It had given them time to talk through the money issues.Svetlana had made the same millionaire argument Ian had and while it was a hit to his pride, it was also true.They made orders of magnitude more than he did and trying to keep up was stupid. </p><p> </p><p>Svetlana proposed a proportion of income system of equity instead.By that logic, adding Yevgeny to his insurance (and paying for food at Ian’s) were larger than proportionate payments.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t like it, but he agreed to it.His new family had a new financial dynamic. It was another adjustment he had to make. </p><p> </p><p>Instead of worrying about that, he had chosen to focus his energy on making sure Yevgeny’s room was set up the way his son wanted it by the time he moved into it.Yevgeny wanted bunk beds (in a house with nine bedrooms, but whatever) and for his room to be decorated with dinosaurs.Iggy had come over to help him put the bed together and do the paint.They’d worked enough construction jobs to be passably good at it.</p><p> </p><p>Three of the walls were painted in green cammo.To complete the room, Mickey had found a wall mural of dinosaurs online that he hoped was fierce enough his son would like it, but at the same time wouldn't inspire nightmares of being eaten.Putting it up had been hard, but in the end it looked pretty good.Good enough he had gotten another one with unicorns for Frannie’s room that he planned to hang before family dinner tonight.</p><p> </p><p>“Visitation is today?”Ian asked, taking Mickey away from his to-do list.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”That was another thing he had to do today.He wasn’t looking forward to it.The last visitation had been weird and not just because he’d had to do it alone. </p><p> </p><p>Debbie had been distracted, looking at her phone a lot.Mickey got the distinct impression she was still angry about being stabbed in the hand and the meltdown at the party.Frannie’s mood was no better leaving Mickey trying to play middle man which was something he sucked at.They only made it 30 minutes of Debbie’s hour.</p><p> </p><p>The Delgado visit had also been different.Peppa had joined Derek for the first time but she wasn’t what made it strange.It was Celia and Tonya who had changed.They had been quieter and less pushy which had enabled Frannie to flee the scene in about 10 minutes with Mickey filling in another 10 telling them about how she had been doing since her birthday party. </p><p> </p><p>The entire situation felt like a painfully deep pimple finally starting to come to a head.It would be even closer to the surface today.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had skipped the last visit, unable to work up the energy to get out of bed.Mickey wasn’t sure if he would have the energy for it today either.Ian was much better, but still not quite his usual self.</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed into Mickey’s hair.“I wish this would just be over.I don’t like living in limbo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me either.”Mickey agreed.It was coming though.If not this visit then the next.Shame was the only reason Derek was still showing up.Celia might still make a play, but Ian had lawyers who had gone through the Delgado family finances with a fine tooth comb.If she didn’t back off on her own, Ian had the ammunition to force her to.Thus, as always, it all came down to Debbie.</p><p> </p><p>Something was definitely going on with her.She was skinnier than he remembered her, almost hollowed out in a way that was vaguely reminiscent of his mother.He wondered again if he was over thinking it since girls did get weird about their weight sometimes or if Debbie was developing a drug habit.He would have spent hours speculating about it with Ian but it was too heavy a topic for a man digging out of a depression.“You gonna run?”</p><p> </p><p>“Later.Just stay with me?”Ian asked, squeezing in a little tighter against Mickey’s back.</p><p> </p><p>“Until Frannie gets up, yeah.”Mickey agreed. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry about all this.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian had been saying sorry so often it had become a very irritating mantra. “No need, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s getting better.”Ian told him.</p><p> </p><p>It was.“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”Ian said again.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop it.”Mickey reached behind him and smacked Ian’s hip.He was tired of the constant apologies.Ian was doing what he could and it was way better than the last time Mickey had seen him depressed.At least this time he was functional.That was huge.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.”Ian kissed the back of his neck. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey squeezed Ian’s arm.He was about to tell Ian he loved him too, when Ian asked, “Will you marry me?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey almost choked.He knew it was coming at some point, but this was way earlier than anticipated and nothing like the embarrassingly large production he was expecting. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t ready.“Ian...”</p><p> </p><p>“I love you though.”Ian said, nuzzling into the back of his neck like there was nothing weird or out of the blue about his impromptu proposal.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you too,” Mickey replied, heart swelling as his stomach contracted, “but I’m not ready for this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Ian breathed, sounding like the wind had been knocked out of him.</p><p> </p><p>The timing was terrible.Ian was better but not his usual self and Mickey was too unfamiliar with Ian’s episodes to know if rejecting his proposal would send him spiraling back downward, but he couldn’t do this yet.Not yet.He rolled over onto his back and looked Ian right in his earnest green eyes.“I’m not saying no, just not right now, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s gaze fell and then he moved away leaving Mickey feeling cold and lonely and like he had just fucked everything up.Why did Ian have to have such bad timing?Why?</p><p> </p><p>He sat up and pushed the covers back, getting out of bed and stretching his arms over his head.There were still things he needed to do and hurdles he had to get over first.“Look, I’m not getting married unless I can consummate it, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian didn’t say anything as he slowly rolled over and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders, a clear sign he was shutting down. </p><p> </p><p>“Ian, c’mon, man.Don’t be like this.I’m not rejecting you or your offer.It’s just the timing, do you understand?”</p><p> </p><p>“Forget I asked.”Ian mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“All I’m saying is not right now.Not yet.I’ve got a little more work to do first.”Mickey tried again, reaching over and putting a hand on Ian’s back that was shrugged off immediately.</p><p> </p><p>Exasperated and afraid he might have just sent Ian back into his depression, part of him wanted to say yes because he knew how bad Ian’s depression could get.Another part, the part that was very aware of how manipulative Ian could be, wondered if Ian might be using Mickey’s fears against him to get what he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Not liking himself for even thinking Ian would do that and not liking the parts of their history that made it a real possibility, Mickey growled, “Or you can be a dick and pout about not getting what you want the instant you want it.Impatient fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Mickey slammed the door as he left their bedroom and Ian didn’t blame him.He had fucked up.He hadn’t even known he was going to ask until the words were out of his mouth and could not be taken back.</p><p> </p><p>Dragging himself out of bed some time later, he got dressed to run.He really didn’t want to, but he needed to.He had to if he was ever going to break free from the wet blanket smothering his mood and get even again.</p><p> </p><p>He <em>had</em> to get even.The longer this depression went on, the worse things would get.He wasn’t helping himself.He wasn’t helping Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, he wasn’t surprised Mickey had said no.</p><p> </p><p>Part of him knew it was just too soon and way too out of the blue.Mickey had so far been unwilling to even name their relationship so making the leap to husbands was obviously a bridge too far.</p><p> </p><p>Another part of him, the kernel of depression that was still lodged in his guts, took Mickey’s refusal as rejection and that was that part he had to fight against.Mickey wasn’t saying no forever, he was just saying not right now.It was too much, too soon. </p><p> </p><p>He had to be patient.</p><p> </p><p>Ian felt like his arms were made of lead as he got dressed, but he fought against the heaviness, determined to resume his routine so he could get back to normal.He had to get back to normal for Mickey, for Frannie and Yevgeny, for everyone at Claymore.</p><p> </p><p>On his way down to start the run he didn’t want to go on, he paused on the second floor landing and looked at Mickey.The smaller man was sitting on one of the kitchen stools sipping coffee.The set of his shoulders was all Ian needed to see to know Mickey was still upset.</p><p> </p><p>He almost gave up on his run to go try and work things out, but decided against it.If he wanted a reasonable conversation with Mickey, he needed to get his head straight first.Running usually helped with that.</p><p> </p><p>He stretched before he set off toward Central Park.He had been very inconsistent lately so both his speed and distance were down, but he wasn’t that worried about it.He’d get back to normal soon enough.He knew better than to push too hard since the physical weariness sometimes added to the emotional exhaustion.He needed to just do what he could do right now and then do more as he could, when he could.</p><p> </p><p>The rhythm of his run finally set in allowing his mind to wander. </p><p> </p><p>He wondered if maybe Mickey would take up running with him if he asked.It would take a while for the brunette to catch up, but it would probably be good for his lungs.His half lung.Fucking hell, Mickey had half a lung.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had literally been stabbed in the back.</p><p> </p><p>How much could one man take?Ian knew he would not have survived even a fraction fo what Mickey had endured. Surely there had to be a bottom to this deep well of misery, but Ian was pretty sure they still hadn’t reached it yet.Fucking Terry.He needed to hurry up and die already. </p><p> </p><p>He had wasted many hours of his life dreaming up ways to have Terry killed while not being implicated or blackmailed, but he just wasn’t a murderer and in spite of everything, neither was Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>God, Mickey deserved so much more than Ian could give him.</p><p> </p><p>Ian turned around and started slowly jogging back trying to strategize how he would smooth things over while worrying he couldn’t. </p><p> </p><p>When he got back Mickey was waiting for him.</p><p> </p><p>“We have shit timing.”Mickey said, handing Ian a cup of coffee.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”He was sorry for so much.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey skewered him with a dark look.“The fuck for?Loving me?Wanting to be with me?Spend the rest of your life with me?You sorry for that?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!Jesus, no.I’m sorry my timing sucks.I’m sorry you feel pressured.”Ian exclaimed. It was easy to forget how fragile the trust between them was.  His tough little thug sometimes needed to be handled with kid gloves which was difficult in his current headspace.God, he just wanted to be normal.  He could do this if he was normal.  Hell, he wouldn’t even have to because he would have known better than blurt out a marriage proposal to someone who refused to even be his boyfriend.  Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Mickey shrugged like it didn’t matter, but the tight set of his shoulders said it did.</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.“It’s not okay, Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is anything ever okay?I mean, seriously.When have we <em>ever</em> been okay?Never, that’s when.”Mickey growled, slamming a pan onto the stovetop.He breathed deep and thenturned to look at Ian.“We get through it though.We always do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure you even want to?”Ian asked, because fuck.Mickey was right.They had never been okay.Not ever.It had always been a shit show.It would always be a shit show.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to.”Mickey said, back turned as he opened the refrigerator and started gathering ingredients.</p><p> </p><p>Ian wondered where Frannie was, because this conversation needed to happen but not in front of her.He hoped she’d give them time to finish this.It was clear in Mickey’s posture there was something more the smaller man needed to say.“But?”</p><p> </p><p>“But I still have work to do.”Mickey said, backing out of the refrigerator with his arms full.He glanced at Ian and shook his head.“I know. I know.You don’t care, but you aren’t the one who’s gonna have to watch the man he loves fuck other people.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian frowned.This topic had not come up in months.“That’s....”</p><p> </p><p>“Realistic.Maybe, like you say, a wing man will do it, but Ian, come on.Your issue and my issue are literally the most incompatible things on the fucking planet.You’re doing what you can to control yours.I gotta do what I can to get over mine.I just want a fucking fighting chance, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow.”Ian couldn’t understand how they had gone from poorly timed marriage proposals to cheating so fast.Mickey was able to make these leaps.Ian could not.He found them disorienting.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey measured flour into a sifter, which Ian had learned meant they were having pancakes, as he said, “I sucked it up when you cheated on me way back when.I was fucking around too, so okay.Whatever.I let that go.New Years, you didn’t have a plan and we weren’t a couple.I let that go too.But you marry me and then cheat on me, there’s only so much sucking it up I can do, Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>Immediately gutted, Ian felt tears spring to his eyes.He wanted so badly to be normal.He wanted to be able to deny all of what Mickey was predicting would happen, but it probably would, eventually.It would and it would kill them.“Do you want to break up?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, man.Fuck.”Mickey rolled his eyes at him and then went still.He started chewing on his lower lip.“But I’m...you...did you know you’re the only person I ever let fuck me?Voluntarily, I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”Ian choked out.Neither of them had been faithful back in the day, but it surprised him to hear Mickey had never bottomed for anyone else.It was his preferred sexual position, so why wouldn’t he...</p><p> </p><p>“I never sucked another dude’s dick either...well until...you know.”Mickey trailed off and Ian suddenly understood why Mickey had freaked out when he thought about giving him a blow job.</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s stomach turned as he realized, again, how much he had taken for granted.How much he had chosen not to think about or analyze.It was all right there, right in front of his face if he had bothered to really look.</p><p> </p><p>It was easy to forget that Mickey had never had the room to be who he really was.He had sacrificed so much, lost so much, missed out on so much and Ian had been oblivious.He had selfishly turned a blind eye to Mickey’s troubles even as he heaped more pain on him.Feeling like the world’s biggest asshole, Ian moaned, “Mickey...”</p><p> </p><p>He was cut off.“It sounds fucking pathetic, but no one touches me like you do.No one...you love me.I have no idea why, but you do.I know you do.Do you get what I’m trying to say here?” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked up at him but was unable to hold Ian’s gaze.His eyes skittered away back to the flour he was sifting.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe?” It came out as a question because Ian wasn’t sure where this was going.He was too busy thinking about how much he had taken for granted, how much he had assumed. </p><p> </p><p>“I just...I...You’ve had boyfriends and other lovers and...but I...you’ll get over it...if...”Mickey stuttered out. </p><p> </p><p>What?</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked up at him and held his gaze.“I won’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“Holy fuck, Mickey.”Ian breathed out unable to process how raw and open Mickey was right now.“Won’t what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Who the hell else is gonna put up with all my shit?”</p><p> </p><p>“Literally anyone who wants to be loved by a fierce little fucker who has never been able to do anything half way.You don’t let many people in, Mick, but when you do you give everything you have.You would do literally anything for the people you love.You aren’t stuck with me.I’m not the only guy who would love you.”Ian responded immediately.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey didn’t look at him, now focusing on whisking eggs and milk together.</p><p> </p><p>“I had no idea you were this insecure.”Ian blurted, unable to understand how someone so special couldn’t see his own worth.That Mickey settled for a selfish, self absorbed, bipolar jerk was the true wonder.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you!”Mickey snapped pouring the milk mixture into the flour mixture.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I mean, you just don’t see yourself.You’re a catch, not a liability.” Ian clarified.“You’re handsome as fuck.You’re smart, quick witted and funny as hell.You’re resourceful, wise and there is no one I’d rather have watch my back.You’re loyal to a fault, but you’re also brave enough to hold people accountable. You love with everything you have.It’s full throttle, heart and soul.Every human being on earth prays to be loved by someone like you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey poured the egg mixture into the flour and started stirring.“That’s easy for you to say.You know where all the bones are buried.”</p><p> </p><p>This was true.Ian could not imagine trying to explain a life like Mickey’s to someone new.It was hard enough to explain his and he hadn’t been through half the shit Mickey had.The amount of trust it would take on Mickey’s part would be astronomical.The amount of patience and grace to hear such awful things and love through them...Ian could only guess how hard that would be.It had been hard to live through the gradual accumulation of pain he had witnessed over the years.Having it dumped on you in one lump sum, fuck, he could not imagine.Still though, he doubted Mickey’s past would be a deal breaker.It would be hard and awkward and painful, but Mickey was <em>worth it</em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you have a hell of a back story, but all that does it make who you are now that much more amazing.You’ve got trust issues.You’ve got a temper.You can be an obstinate asshole and sometimes you avoid making decisions, but it’s just because you care so much and don’t want to fuck things up.You are by far and away the most incredible man I have ever met and if anyone is lucky here, it’s me.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey turned on a burner and put a pat of butter in the pan.He shook his head, saying, “You have options.”</p><p> </p><p>Not a word he had said had sunk in, but this was how it usually worked with Mickey.It was like planting seeds.He had to give them time to grow.Ian sighed.“So do you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.Right.”Mickey grunted, clearly done with this conversation.</p><p> </p><p>Ian thought Mickey vastly over estimated his options.Yeah, he was rich, but he was also bipolar.No matter what he did to control it, it would still get away from him, like now.Money, success, fame, none of them really mattered in the long run.They attracted people, but those things did not keep people.He had a litany of past boyfriends none of whom were invested enough in him to go the distance with him.The moment the bipolar went from theoretical to real, they left.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey, the one person on earth who did not deserve his shit, was also the only one who would put up with it.Ian knew he didn’t deserve to be loved like Mickey loved him and now he was worrying that love was only because Mickey thought he didn’t have other options.He wanted it to be more than that.He wanted it to be real and deep and true and forever, but how could it be?</p><p> </p><p>Mickey did not deserve what Ian would do to him, but selfish bastard that he was, Ian wasn’t going to let go either.“You don’t have to believe me.In fact, I’d prefer it if you don’t.I’d hate to have you figure out how awesome you are and better deal me.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for missing last week.  I just didn’t have the bandwidth to edit.  I’m not sure I do this week either, so forgive me if this isn’t up to my usual standards, but I didn’t want people to worry.</p><p>Other than being exhausted, I’m fine.</p><p>I got the first dose of the Pfizer vaccine on Thursday.  So far, so good, no side effects.  Frankly, the only thing that would stop me from a second dose is anaphylaxis, which luckily is very rare and didn’t happen to me. </p><p>I’m just grateful for the light at the end of the tunnel.  It’s going to be months if not years before we get to the magic 70% vaccination rate that will enable us to finally let our guard down, but we’re on our way.</p><p>In the mean time, please keep wearing masks, social distancing and washing your hands.</p><p>I hope the holidays are treating you well.</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Point A to Point B</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Papa!”Yevgeny yelled as the elevator door opened.He had an adult sized back pack over his shoulder and a huge roller bag was dragging behind him.</p><p> </p><p>The kid looked over loaded so Mickey reached for the roller bag as he greeted his son.“Hey, Yev.”</p><p> </p><p>Yevgeny flung off the backpack as well and hugged his dad.Looking up at him, he reminded Mickey, “I get to stay with you today!”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, bud.” Mickey smiled down at his son.This moment had been a long time coming and he was feeling an odd mix of thrilled and terrified.So far he’d done a pretty good job parenting in small doses, but would his son still like him when they spent so much more time together?“You wanna go put your stuff in your room?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah!”Yevgeny nodded excitedly, snatching the roller bag out of Mickey’s hand and dragging it toward the elevator apparently.</p><p> </p><p>“You are ready?”Asked Svetlana who had been watching the exchange from the landing.</p><p> </p><p>“As anyone can be for two kids, yeah.”Mickey nodded.Why having Yevgeny live with him was so unsettling when he had been raising Frannie for months didn’t really make sense to him, but somehow it was different.</p><p> </p><p>Svetlana walked over an leaned on the kitchen island.“Where is Ian?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Mickey put down the knife he had been using to clean Brussels sprouts.He wasn’t sure what to say. </p><p> </p><p>They had survived a very uncomfortable start to their day and the visitation that followed had also been awkward and more than a little sad, but it felt like movement to Mickey so he wasn’t complaining. </p><p> </p><p>To avoid thinking about what it all meant, he had spent the afternoon finishing the unicorn mural he had promised to put up in Frannie’s room.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had spent the afternoon in his office, not the bed, so the marriage proposal fiasco and Frannie situation had didn’t seem to have derailed his progress, which felt like a huge step in the right direction to Mickey.“He’s been in his office most of the day, but he said he’d be down for dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>She stared at him for a moment, before she shrugged and said, “Good.He is better at work also.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.”Mickey said, happy to hear the idea that Ian was getting better validated.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he seemed too confident or too relieved, because her next words took him out at the knees.“Carrot makes progress, but be gentle.Some of what you see is, how do you say, fake it till you make it?Yes.He does that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”It had not occurred to him Ian could be faking, but now that he thought about it, he had no idea what Ian was doing in his office.He could be curled into a fetal ball on the floor in the corner for all Mickey knew.</p><p> </p><p>“This is not bad.”Svetlana said.“He has energy to act better than he feels.It is always this way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Mickey muttered, fighting the urge to go up and check on Ian.</p><p> </p><p>She seemed to know what he was thinking and made an effort to be reassuring.“He is better faster this time.You are good for him.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked at her and she stared right back at him.He had always had a hard time reading her, but right now, she seemed sincere.He dropped the staring contest and said, “I just want him to be okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then you do a good job.”She smiled.“He is okay.” </p><p> </p><p>“You still cool watching the kids?”Mickey asked, changing the subject. </p><p> </p><p>Svetlana arched an eyebrow at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.I mean...”</p><p> </p><p>“This you need.I watch children.All is well.”She cut him off.She had offered to watch the kids for them because the beach vacation Ian had promised back at Christmas was finally happening. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey worried it would be too much for Ian, but before he could express his concerns, Mandy bounded up the stairs, saying, “Hey, fam, what’s up?”</p><p> </p><p>As Mandy entered the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine and a gift bag and Iggy appeared on the landing behind her with Chelsey at his side, Svetlana said, “We talk about beach trip.”</p><p> </p><p>A wide smile spread across Mandy’s face.“Ooooh, do you know where you’re going yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope, he won’t fucking tell me.”Mickey growled, but it was just play acting. </p><p> </p><p>When Ian was in the depths of his depression he had brought up going on their trip, apologizing for failing to make it happen as if it was somehow his fault Mickey had been avoiding him for the past several months.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey still had not found his footing dealing with Ian’s depression so he had made light of it, telling Ian they had plenty of time to go before Christmas rolled around again.</p><p> </p><p>He had thought it was just talk, something Ian had thought of and then forgotten, his silence on the subject as abrupt as his mentioning of it, but a couple days later Ian surprised him by telling him he had booked a four day weekend. </p><p> </p><p>The suddenness of it threw Mickey for a loop, but not wanting to disappoint Ian and possibly send him backwards, he had gone to his boss with the last minute request.To his surprise, Tom agreed easily. </p><p> </p><p>Since then Ian had been absolutely tight lipped about exactly where they were going which meant Mickey had no way to know how to prepare for the trip.He had been annoyed at first, but quickly realized every time they talked about it Ian’s mood lightened. </p><p> </p><p>It turned into a game.Ian was pulling out of his depression but it was a two steps forward, one step back sort of progress.When Ian seemed to be stepping back, Mickey would ask something stupid like did he need hiking boots (which he did not own) for their trip.Sometimes Ian was quick to answer, sometimes he wasn’t, but eventually Mickey would be told, no, he didn’t need hiking boots.Flip flops would do it. </p><p> </p><p>Lately, Mickey didn’t need to ask.As he felt better, Ian had started dropping hints, telling him about white sand beaches, turquoise water, palm trees, fresh fruity cocktails, vanishing edge pools overlooking the ocean, but nothing concrete enough to pinpoint a location.It didn’t matter. The game made Ian happy so what the hell?</p><p> </p><p>“Does it matter?”Asked Mandy, looking dreamy and a little jealous. </p><p> </p><p>“Guess not.”It really didn’t.Getting to see the ocean and doing it first class all the way?Who could complain about that?</p><p> </p><p>Iggy was bent over listening to Chelsey for a moment before he shuffled forward looking nervous.“Got you something, for your trip.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s eyebrows raised.Iggy bought him something?</p><p> </p><p>He opened the brown paper bag and found a Hawaiian shirt.It was ugly as fuck and it reminded him of way back when they all lived together and Ian was stealing suitcases, but...Iggy bought him something.Just for the fuck of it.</p><p> </p><p>Wondering if Chelsey had put him up to it, while simultaneously not caring if she had, he put the shirt back in the bag and muttered, “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“I got you something too.”Mandy held out the gift bag she had been carrying.</p><p> </p><p>Inside was a pair of brown leather flip flops.His sister had gotten him flip flops, not for his birthday or Christmas.They were even the right size.For a family who did not give gifts as a general rule, it felt weird and overwhelming to be on the receiving end.Mickey wasn’t sure what to say.</p><p> </p><p>He was rescued when Ian walked into the room and greeted everyone.“Evening, family.S’up?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey eyed him hard for a moment before exhaling the breath he had been holding.Ian looked okay.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy either ignored or made a snap assessment of Ian’s wellbeing before she slung an arm over Mickey’s shoulder and teased. “Just making sure Mickey has what he needs for your beach vaycay.” </p><p> </p><p>Ian nodded and swiped the wine bottle out of Mandy’s hand as he walked past them toward the drawer with the bottle opener.Over his shoulder he asked Iggy, “Who’s the lovely lady?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, right. Ian this is Chelsey.Chelsey this is Ian.”Iggy said, nervous and defiant just like he had been when he introduced her to Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>Ian put the wine bottle down and came around to shake hands, gracious and charming as he normally was.“Nice to meet you, Chelsey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Likewise.”She replied, beaming.She turned to Iggy and asked, “Can I tell them?” </p><p> </p><p>He blushed but nodded and Mickey’s eyes darted to her hands, but there wasn’t a ring. </p><p> </p><p>With a huge smile on her face and an arm around Iggy’s waist Chelsey announced, “We have a new graduate in the house!”</p><p> </p><p>“You passed?”Mandy asked, face splitting in to a huge smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.My results posted last night.”Iggy blushed even harder, but his chest was puffed out a little so while he might be embarrassed, he was also proud of himself. </p><p> </p><p>He had pushed back his test date so many times Mickey had begun to think Iggy wasn’t going to finish.Mickey clapped his older brother on the back hard.“Congrats, bro!”</p><p> </p><p>An awkward silence followed, being proud of each other still a new phenomenon among Milkoviches.Thankfully, it was broken by the clatter of Yevgeny and Frannie running down the stairs.Yevgeny yelled, “Papa!Papa!”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey just had time to brace for the collision when Yevgeny ran into him and wrapped his arms around him.“What, kid?”</p><p> </p><p>Frannie slammed into his back turning Mickey into a kid sandwich.</p><p> </p><p>“The dinosaurs are awesome!”Yevgeny told him, huge blue eyes shining happily. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”Mickey asked, smiling back.He had worried his son wouldn't like it.“You like ‘em?”</p><p> </p><p>“I love them!”Yevgeny exclaimed. he squeezed Mickey tight and then turned to Svetlana.“Mama, they’re super cool.You should come see.”</p><p> </p><p>Frannie tugged at Mickey’s shirt until he turned to look at her.“I love the unicorns too.”</p><p> </p><p>He had barely had time to finish Frannie’s room, but made it just in time to start dinner.“That’s good, cupcake.”</p><p> </p><p>“Frannie, you show me your room also.”Svetlana said, holding out a hand to the little ginger.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as they left, Mickey turned to Mandy.“Hoping to get that thing out of my walk in.”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes got wide.“It’s still in there?”</p><p> </p><p>“What thing?”Chelsey asked.</p><p> </p><p>“The birthday cake from Frannie’s party.It’s still sitting in the downstairs refrigerator.”Ian explained with a shrug.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.When I can’t find her, she’s in the fridge with that damn cake.Thank fuck it doesn’t lock.”Frannie had not given up on the cake.She would bundle up in her winter coat, take her toys and spend way too much time in the walk-in playing with the fucking cake.It was no longer the pristine work of art it had been since she could not help touching it, but she still loved the damn thing.He turned on Mandy and said, “I blame you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Guilty.”Mandy smirked, not at all sorry her cake had been such a huge hit.</p><p> </p><p>“Fucker’s probably gonna be her wedding cake at this rate.”Mickey groused.It was sarcasm, but the little ginger really was obsessed with the thing.It seemed unhealthy, but when he talked to the kiddie shrink about it, while she had not been happy about the cake’s location, she said to leave it alone and let the Frannie outgrow it.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I can get a plastic version made or something.” Ian said as he started passing wine glasses around, like Frannie’s unhealthy attachment to a cake wasn’t concerning.</p><p> </p><p>“Riiight.”Mickey rolled his eyes.He started back into his kitchen to resume working on dinner. </p><p> </p><p>“No, really.We could get it 3-D printed.I’m serious.”Ian said. “Then you can reclaim your walk in.”</p><p> </p><p>“My sister is an artist.If you have a picture of it I bet she could paint it to look like the original.”Chelsey offered.</p><p> </p><p>“That would be great.”Ian said, handing her a glass of wine. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey would take whatever he could get if it got the kid out of the refrigerator.He was 100 percent sure it could not be locked or jammed from the inside, but he still worried.“I just don’t want her to get stuck in there and freeze to death.”</p><p> </p><p>“Such a softie.”Mandy teased.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey gave her double birds in response.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“How was visitation?” Mandy asked, sitting with Ian on the couch.She had not had any time alone with him in a long while and wanted to see how he was doing for herself.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t moving at his usual speed and looked a little thin and pale, but the glassy, wall eyes stare he tended to have when he was depressed wasn’t evident right now.</p><p> </p><p>“Derek dropped out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously?”Mandy asked, though she wasn’t really surprised.She’d seen it happen many times as a child, but it still broke her heart.Frannie deserved better than that.</p><p> </p><p>“He wasn’t on the call at all.Connie told us he’s relinquishing his parental rights.I think the only reason he lasted this long was because of his mother.”Ian said looking how she felt, his expression a mix of sadness and anger.Then he heaved a deep breath and said, “He has a fiancé and a new baby on the way.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy had seen her at the party.She was a pretty girl who had been heavily pregnant.Mandy could understand why Peppa wouldn’t be happy about discovering her soon to be husband already had a kid.She could even understand Derek’s reluctance to be a father to a child he he was tricked into having. It was a classic Southside story after all, but she could not understand abandoning a child.Milkoviches were a lot of things, but for better or worse, they stuck together.“That’s seriously fucked up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can you imagine being Peppa though?She finds the love of her life.She’s pregnant with his baby.She’s getting married.Then out of the blue comes a kid she never even knew existed.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mandy could imagine. “Then she meets that kid here and like, fuck.If I had a kid and saw them living like this I’d feel like an dick taking them back to a shit hole.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian frowned, not saying anything.</p><p> </p><p>“What does Celia say?”Mandy asked because the grandmother had always seemed to be the driving force behind the Delgado involvement in Frannie’s case.</p><p> </p><p>“She did the Skype call, but it was weird.”Ian replied.“I talked to Connie after and Celia can still petition for custody herself, but she hasn’t so far.I don’t want that, but I do want them to stay in Frannie’s life.She’s going to want to know them someday.Better not burn the bridge, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“So, now it’s basically down to Debbie.”Since January she had watched how Ian and Mickey had bonded with Frannie and how Debbie drifted away.When she was in New York, she was super focused on her daughter.When she was in Chicago, Frannie seemed to be an afterthought. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Like I said, Celia could still make a play for her, but my lawyers are ready for that.If Debbie doesn’t figure out her shit, Frannie will stay with us.”</p><p> </p><p>The last conversation they had about Frannie, Ian had said ‘me’ rather than ‘us’.It had been gradual, but it seemed like things with Mickey and Ian were getting back on track and this one little word was confirmation of it.They were healing.</p><p> </p><p>It made her smile, but then she saw Frannie and Yevgeny run into the kitchen and the smile slid off her face. </p><p> </p><p>She remembered feeling sorry for Debbie back in the day.The girl had a mile-wide awkward streak.She also tended to be impulsive, stubborn and defensive.She didn’t think things through before she acted and then got pissed when things didn’t work out.It was never her fault either, always someone else’s.Now it was just infuriatingly selfish.“How’s that going?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not good.She shows up for the Skype visits, but it’s not the same.Something is definitely going on with her, not that she’ll tell anyone or let us help.”Ian sighed.“Connie has started dropping hints about possible adoption.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”Frannie could do a lot worse than continuing to live with Ian and Mickey, but Mandy vividly remembered when DCFS removed her as a child.She would have done anything to go back to her mom even if her mom was a useless drug addict.After her mother died and it was just Terry, she would have killed to be adopted into a situation like Frannie’s. The ambivalence she felt was almost painful.“This sucks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”Ian agreed, looking sad.</p><p> </p><p>No one who knew him liked to see that look on Ian’s face.It was time to change the subject.Thankfully she had the perfect topic.“So...where ya’ going?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian grinned and leaned back into the couch.“Not telling.It’s a surprise.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s cute.”Mandy snarked.She actually thought it was, but it was also sappy as hell.Mickey hated surprises too. “Just tell me it’s not a cruise.He hates boats.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian shrugged.“Not a cruise, but there are boats involved.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy snorted.“Good luck with that then.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian leaned forward, concern blossoming on his face.“We can’t get there without a boat.”</p><p> </p><p>“An island without an airport, huh?”Mandy figured that probably didn’t do much to narrow things down, but it would not stop her from Google searching.</p><p> </p><p>“Basically.Have to take a ferry over.It’s a really laid back kinda place, but pretty much anything he could want to do on a vacation we can do from there.”</p><p> </p><p>An island with a ferry.That narrowed it down a little more.She probably should have talked to Ian before he booked this trip because Mickey had a thing about boats.“What other boats are involved?”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s this really cool snorkeling spot.” Ian said, looking excited.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy hated to disappoint him, but it was better she do it now so Mickey wouldn’t have to later.They were supposed to have fun on their trip, reconnect in a way they had not been able to so far, and making Mickey feel like he fucked it up would have the opposite effect.“Mickey can’t swim.That’s why he hates boats.”</p><p> </p><p>“How did I not know that?”Ian asked, face palming.Then he immediately turned into Mr. Fix-It.“I’ll cancel the excursion.No biggy.If it’s really an issue I can get a helicopter to fly us over.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy didn’t want him to completely change his plans.That wasn’t the point. Mickey would be so far removed him from his normal he would probably be more agreeable to having his boundaries pushed, even if he was grumpy about it.“Nah, it’s good to push him out of his comfort zone sometimes.You’re pretty much the only one who can.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian chuckled. “You underestimate Yev and Frannie.He’s practically putty in their hands.”</p><p> </p><p>“Kids.”Mandy laughed with him.It was true.She knew how important it was to Mickey to be nothing like their own father.She really admired him for that and hoped when she finally had a family of her own, she was able to follow his example.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently Ian was thinking along the same lines.“How’s it going with what’s his name?”</p><p> </p><p>“Surprisingly good.”Mandy was truly shocked by her good fortune with Trent.</p><p> </p><p>“Why is it surprising?You’re awesome.”Ian asked, putting an arm around her and pulling her into his side.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy adjusted to him, settling into the comfort of his embrace.“Just...he’s a good man.Like for real.I’ve background checked the hell out of him and it’s all good.He’s not a criminal. He’s not married.He doesn't have a secret family.He’s not abusive.He’s financially stable and has great credit.And for once, the awesome guy isn’t gay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not all the awesome men are gay.”Ian admonished, squeezing her tighter. “Anyway, I don’t know why you sound so surprised.You and Mickey, neither of you think you deserve to have nice things or be with nice people, but you do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just...you know.”He knew as much as an outsider could, but he would never really understand.He would never know what it felt like to live in a house full of land mines where even the tiniest hint of happiness had to be destroyed.He had no idea what growing up Milkovich was really like and she was glad he didn’t.She wouldn’t wish her childhood on anyone.</p><p> </p><p>“I do know, but you’re worthy of being happy.You’re worthy of a great guy who treats you like a queen.”Ian said, pausing for a second before adding,“I want to meet him.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not ready for Mickey.”Mandy immediately said.Iggy bringing Chelsey around was one thing, but what happened when their baby sister brought home a man?With her history of terrible choices? They would defend her like they had been taught by their father and they would not trust her judgement because she had taught them she didn’t have any. </p><p> </p><p>“Let me handle Mickey.Besides, Chelsey survived.Just bring your boyfriend to the next family dinner, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Trent had been asking to meet them, insisting her brothers couldn’t be as bad as she made them sound.They were worse actually, or at least they had been.They still could be, but at some point she was going to have to trust them not to be the assholes of the past.Both of them were trusting her in ways she never would have thought possible.Maybe it was time she did them the same favor...if Ian, Svetlana and Chelsey were there to help run interference.“Yeah, okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Love you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Love you too.”She replied.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next stop paradise.  I figured the boys had earned some fun.</p><p>Not my best chapter I fear, but all the reworking in the world wasn’t making it better so...here is the bridge from point a to point b.</p><p>Hope everyone who celebrates had a great Christmas.  Super excited about 2021.  It’s first 20 days are going to suck, hard and with teeth, but I think it will get better from there.</p><p>Stay safe out there!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So this is different.”Mickey said as he settled into his seat by the window. </p><p> </p><p>“This is the first time you’ve flown commercial isn’t it?”Ian asked, smiling at how grumpy Mickey was.He had been cranky since they woke up that morning.He knew it was just nerves, but he wished Mickey would relax.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey nodded, glaring up at the people brushing past Ian on the aisle side.“It’s a fucking bus with wings.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty much.It’s worse back there.”Ian gestured behind them were all the people were going.There were only two seats on either side of the aisle in first class where they were.In the main cabin there were three seats on either side and no leg room.It amused him Mickey Milkovich would probably never know what flying coach was like.It felt good to spoil him rotten.It felt better than good.It felt <em>right</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank God for first class, huh?”Mickey snorted, caught somewhere between a sneer and gratitude.Ian did what he usually did when Mickey was fighting against being happy, which meant he was sitting there quietly with a huge goofy grin on his face trying to be quiet.Mickey would come around if he was patient.</p><p> </p><p>As the stream of people turned into a trickle, Mickey seemed to finally settle in enough to ask, “So why Cancun?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not Cancun.”Ian replied, grinning as Mickey frowned.He had really enjoyed this game and was already planning to do at least one surprise vacation every year for the rest of their lives.“That’s just where we’re landing. I picked Mexico because you always talked about running away there.Figured it would be a great place to escape, pun intended.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s frown deepened and Ian realized maybe he had hit a little too close to home with that comment.They were quiet as the flight attendants closed the doors and prepped the plane for takeoff.</p><p> </p><p>Ian wished he had thought that through a little more.He had envisioned them in a hammock talking about how awesome the trip was and Mickey reminding him how he had always wanted to escape to Mexico, but no.He had to jump the gun and dredge up the past in a way guaranteed to upset Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>Shortly after takeoff, Mickey broke the uncomfortable silence by asking, “You ever been wherever we’re going?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.I came to Cancun a couple years ago and did a day trip to this little island off shore called Isla Mujeres.”Ian replied, finally telling Mickey where they were going.“I just really loved the energy of the place.It’s laid back and super chill.There’s nightlife and stuff to do, but you can also just kick your feet up and lounge around on the beach all day if you want to.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded and then a flight attendant came by to take their drink and meal orders.Mickey got a margarita which Ian took as a good sign.Ian ordered sparkling water with cranberry juice.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t fly to it?”Mickey asked as soon as the flight attendant moved on to the next row.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s an airfield, but it’s ancient and unused, so no.We get there by ferry.”Ian told him because there was no way to pretend there wasn’t a landing strip.They’d go past it at least once, but it was abandoned.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate boats.”Mickey said.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy had told him this, but, “Well that’s the only way to get there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Mickey muttered as he was handed his margarita.He took a sip and turned to look out the window.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you hate boats?”Ian asked, not wanting to spend the entire flight in silence. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey turned to look at him, holding up a hand and counting off the reasons on his fingers.“Let’s see, dumped bodies in the lake twice.My dad shot a guy on a boat once and pushed him out into the lake to drown, so I guess three times actually.That was fun.I got shoved into the lake and almost drowned when I was 12 ‘cause I talked back.Oh and I can’t fucking swim.Boats are awesome.Fucking love boats.Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>If he had known all of that, Ian would have picked somewhere else for their trip, but it was too late now.He tried to be positive. “So maybe we make some new boat memories?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, you sound like my shrink.”Mickey muttered, downing the rest of the margarita and getting the attention of a passing flight attendant by holding the empty glass up and pointing to it.</p><p> </p><p>They were not off to a great start, but that didn’t mean it had to be bad.They just had to make new memories.“So let me take that a step farther by saying we can’t let the past define the now.Now, you’re getting on a boat, on the ocean, not a lake, to go over to a tropical paradise for a long weekend with your boyfriend.That’s a total 180.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but can’t we chopper over or something?”Mickey asked.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”Ian replied, surprised Mickey had let his boyfriend comment slide by.Either he was too wrapped up in worrying about being on a boat or he subconsciously knew it was true and thus didn’t question it.Either way, Ian wasn't complaining.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t or won’t?”Mickey asked, with a doubtful arched eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“Could I hire a helicopter?Yes.We both know I could.”Ian admitted.“Will I?No. One, because that is elitist as fuck, two, because I don’t want that kind of attention this weekend and, three, because I am 100 percent certain when you see the ferry you’ll change your mind.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, you’re right. This is pretty cool.”Mickey agreed, mind definitely changed about the boat ride.They were on the upper deck of a bright yellow ferry and the wind was whipping his hair and passing through the light material of the sky blue Cuban shirt he was wearing.The breeze definitely helped cut through the humid, tropical heat.</p><p> </p><p>He’d always liked ocean scented candles, but they were nothing like the real thing.He inhaled and closed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Told you.”Ian said, briefly clasping Mickey’s shoulder before his attention turned to the singer at the bow of the boat.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked at him.Ian was wearing a long sleeve, light green shirt that supposedly had sunscreen abilities, white shorts and a wide brim white hat.He had spent much of the car ride from the airport to the ferry station slathering himself in reef safe sunblock and now that they were outside Mickey wanted to take back some of the mocking comments he’d made.</p><p> </p><p>It had not occurred to him how hard so much sun would be on someone with Ian’s complexion, but looking at him now, it was clear without very careful skincare Ian would be burnt to a crisp in minutes.The man was so white he was almost blinding in the sunshine.</p><p> </p><p>The man bag he had made fun of Ian for carrying had sun screen, long pants of the same material as his shirt, an umbrella and some water in it.It wasn’t a fashion statement. It was survival gear.Maybe he shouldn’t have mocked it.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was pale as fuck most of the time, but when he did get sun he tended to tan rather than burn.This had not stopped Ian from being a nazi about making him put on sunscreen too, but in retrospect, it was a good idea.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted at himself and then let his gaze move forward to watch the island they were approaching.He could not believe he was finally in Mexico.Not a shit hole part of it, but on his way to the eastern most point of the country.He looked off to the right at the distant skyline of Cancun and sighed. “This is so fucking cool.I never knew water could really be this color.I thought all those pictures were photoshopped or some shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled.“If we were still, you’d be able to see the bottom, maybe even some fish.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked down over the side and decided that was probably true.Never in a million years would he have thought he would be in a place like this.With Ian, no less.“This is fucking nuts, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Merry Christmas.”Ian said, leaning his shoulder into Mickey for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>Christmas seemed like a lifetime ago, but they were finally here.Ian had kept his promise.Mickey replied, “Happy birthday.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is gonna be awesome.”Ian grinned and stood up to go to the front of the boat and put some money in the singer’s hat.The guy was pretty good and the music did help the time go by.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey went back to watching the water.He could see when they passed over deeper parts and coral reefs and then long patches of white sand where the water turned the most vivid aquamarine.It was hypnotizing and before he knew it they were pulling up to the dock.</p><p> </p><p>Ian slung his bag over his shoulder and stood up, leading the way down to collect their suitcase while Mickey trailed behind him taking in the scene.The little station was quaint, but hot as hell.There were golf carts everywhere and small red sedans that were taxis pulled up and departed with a rhythm like waves crashing. </p><p> </p><p>Across the street there were shops.People were everywhere; locals, Mexican and international tourists mingled together in semi-confusion as those who knew where they were going tried to get around people who didn’t.Luckily, Ian seemed to know where he was going.</p><p> </p><p>They caught a cab and set off toward the southwestern end of the island.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey just watched the world go by.They passed a sculpture of a whale shark that people were taking photos in front of.They slowed down as they drove through a small Naval base and then things started to thin out a little and become more residential.</p><p> </p><p>It was a mix of brand new, seen better days and crumbling decay that reminded Mickey of the Southside in a weird way.Maybe this was how islands gentrified.It made him a little sad, truth be told.</p><p> </p><p>“So we’re headed to Punta Sur.Where we’re staying is a small, gay friendly resort I discovered the last time I was here.It has a great poolside bar, which is basically all I saw of the place, and the guacamole is literally to die for.”Ian told him, shifting in his seat, probably because the back of his legs was sticking to the seat like Mickey’s were.</p><p> </p><p>“Gay friendly?”Mickey asked, because it just seemed weird for Ian to be so specific about it.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was quick to clarify. “It’s not a gay resort.I didn’t figure you’d like that, but it’s...friendly.” </p><p> </p><p>“Why do I need to know that?Is the rest of the island <em>un</em>friendly?”Mickey asked, the relaxation that had started to seep into him immediately turning to tension.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no.I just try to support gay businesses when I can.The owner is gay, but his place isn’t.”Ian assured him, patting his knee.“Does that answer your question?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged, still tense.</p><p> </p><p>“The island isn’t that big.He has to appeal to everyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Mickey glanced over at Ian.Something in the redhead’s voice made him suspicious.“How well do you know this guy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not well.I met him at the bar.Nice guy.”Ian replied.</p><p> </p><p>The feeling of suspicion grew.“Huh.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian chuckled and rolled his eyes.“When you see him, you’ll know whatever you're thinking right now is stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey grunted in return, unconvinced. </p><p> </p><p>“This is it.”The driver told them as they pulled up to a dark brown wooden gate that was open.</p><p> </p><p>As the car started down the incline the beach came into view.It was like a postcard, white sands, crystal clear water, palm trees and some dark wood lounge chairs with navy and white striped umbrellas providing shade.It was so fucking beautiful Mickey’s heart tightened.He had never thought he would see this.Never. </p><p> </p><p>Running away to Mexico had only ever been a pipe dream, but this was real.He was here.Emotional and unable to find words, he whistled his appreciation instead.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, right?”Ian smirked as he climbed out of the car and paid the driver.Mickey grabbed their suitcase and followed Ian into the lobby.He barely listened as Ian got them checked in.He was too busy staring down a huge iguana that was watching him like it thought he would rob the place.</p><p> </p><p>“Attack lizard, watch out.”Mickey warned Ian as the redhead turned around with keycards in hand.He pointed at the iguana.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s Ralph, right?”Ian asked the desk clerk who nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Ralph pretty much runs the place.There are tee shirts in the gift shop with Ralph on them.Just don’t try to pet him and you’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, we’re this way I think.”Ian set off in search of their room and Mickey trailed along behind, just trying to take it all in.He was feeling a little dizzy.</p><p> </p><p>“Found it.This is us.”Ian slid the keycard through the lock and the door opened on an air conditioned tropical paradise.</p><p> </p><p>It was mostly white.White walls, white marble floors, white couches, white everything except for the wood tables and cabinets which were stained dark brown.There was a small, well appointed kitchen and dining for six.Tropical plants filled the corners and the far wall was nothing but windows looking out at the ocean.The Cancun skyline was in the distance.It was gorgeous.“Holy fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is way better than I expected.”Ian agreed, taking off his hat and raking a hand through his matted down hair causing curls to pop up in all directions.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what to say.” Mickey said, the feeling of being on the verge of tears that had been intermittently present since the ferry roared back to the forefront.He swiped at his eyes with a fist.He wasn’t going to cry over a goddamn <em>view</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Ian seemed to understand, gathering him up in his arms and resting his chin on Mickey’s shoulder.“You don’t have to say anything.”</p><p> </p><p>They stood like that who knows how long before Ian let go, grabbed their suitcase and disappeared into the other room.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey swiped at his eyes again, hating how misty he still felt.It was just a fucking beach. </p><p> </p><p>“You really need to check out this bathroom.It’s fucking amazing.”Ian called.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey finally tore his eyes away from the water and forced his feet to carry him into the bedroom which was just as beautiful as the rest of the place.It also felt cozy and like falling into bed here would be the most restful sleep of his life.More to himself than to Ian, he said, “This is, I never could have...I mean this is insane.”</p><p> </p><p>“You love it?”Ian asked coming into the room wearing board shorts and a long sleeve scratch guard shirt that clung to him in all the right places.He looked relaxed and easy, like he didn’t have a care in the world.It was sexy as fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey swallowed.“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wanna go walk on the beach?”Ian asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe change into something you can get wet?”Ian suggested, smiling at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.Yeah.”Mickey couldn’t swim, not really.He could sort of dog paddle if he had to, but he had no comfort in the water.He wasn’t real sure he wanted to get in the ocean, but he did want to walk through the surf holding hands with his boyfriend....well, best friend.It felt like they should at least be kissing or something before he could really call them boyfriends.</p><p> </p><p>It was one of his goals for this trip.He figured it was Ian’s too.Why else bring him somewhere so romantic?</p><p> </p><p>He changed into Hawaiian print board shorts and a tee shirt he’d cut the arms off of and headed out into the main room where Ian was waiting for him.He walked right into Ian’s arms and kissed him, a little tentative at first, but he got over it fast. </p><p> </p><p>When they finally broke apart to breathe, Mickey said, “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow.”Ian said, smiling like an idiot.“I wasn’t expecting that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure you were.”Mickey scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I really wasn’t, but fuck am I glad you did that.”Ian replied, putting his arms around Mickey’s shoulders.“I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey let himself be hugged for a moment, putting his arms around Ian’s waist.It was nice. Comfortable.The weeks of depression and libido-less touching had made this possible.Mickey had never thought he would be grateful for an episode, but he was.Ian was better now and so was he. </p><p> </p><p>“So, you wanna go see the beach?”Ian asked, pulling away from him so he could go figure out how to open the windows.They were similar to the windows on their courtyard, floor to ceiling and able to fold back all the way to open the room entirely to the outdoors.The rush of sea air hit Mickey’s senses like a freight train.He felt like he needed to sit, but instead he grabbed onto the back of a chair next to him.“Holy fuck, this is so...so...like is this even real?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep.It’s real.Go grab some lounge chairs and I’ll get us some food and drinks.”Ian handed him the man bag which now had towels sticking out from the top of it.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey followed him out onto the patio and then stepped barefoot into the white sand, not the glorified cat litter of his childhood sandbox, and let it squish through his toes.This was real.He was really here and it was awesome and he was going to have to let go of his incredulity and just fucking enjoy it somehow.</p><p> </p><p>Ian headed off in the direction of a huge cabana.Mickey made his way down to the beach and found a pair of lounge chairs next to each other and claimed them by tossing a towel on one and sitting on the other.</p><p> </p><p>The air was warm bordering on hot, but the breeze off the ocean was pleasant.He got up and adjusted the umbrella for maximum shade for Ian and sat back down.He was really here.Really in Mexico.Not a fugitive with no money and no hope, but a tourist.A rich fucking tourist with a beautiful ginger god of a companion who was making his way toward him. </p><p> </p><p>A group of women two rows back from Mickey’s lounge chairs were staring hard at Ian and Mickey couldn’t blame them.Ian looked fucking gorgeous in his white, teal and yellow plaid shorts and white shirt.With the wind blowing on him, the outfit left almost nothing to the imagination which Mickey figured was intended for his benefit from the way Ian was smirking at him, but was attracting more attention than Mickey liked.</p><p> </p><p>He hated PDA, but when Ian got close enough Mickey stood up, wrapped an arm around him and kissed him again, quick and possessive, in front of god and everyone.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure you don’t just want to pee on me?Make it a little more clear who I belong to?”Ian asked, chuckling when they broke apart.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t see how they were looking at you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see how they’re looking at us and I don’t think it’s much better.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey turned to look and the group of women was staring right back at him.He turned his back on them, frowning.“I forgot how many chicks perv on gay guys.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s like dudes perving on lesbians.Let it go. We’re here to have fun, not worry about a bunch of hens I wouldn’t fuck with someone else’s dick.” Ian told him, running a hand down from Mickey’s shoulder to his hand. “I ordered margaritas and guacamole to start.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cool.”Mickey said, wondering if they tasted different in Mexico.</p><p> </p><p>“Wanna go walk in the water while we wait?”Ian asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Year!  2021 is going to start rough, but it’s going to get better. 😊</p><p>Isla Mujeres is an awesome vacation spot.  I’ve been there several times because I love it so much.  It’s a great place to eat, drink and chill.  I thought there was a symmetry in bringing Mickey to Mexico and taking him to somewhere I love and know well...how could I not?</p><p>The resort Mickey and Ian are staying at is a complete fabrication and does not exist in real life.  I’ve never stayed in a resort there, so maybe some of this isn’t that far fetched, I wouldn’t know.  My friends and I always rent houses when we go.  The resort is made it up from other places I’ve stayed and some really amazing photos I saw on Pinterest.  The iguana is inspired by the Soggy Peso (a super cool bar on the island).</p><p>There’s some really good snorkeling/diving spots and if you time your trip right (late August) you can swim with the whale sharks which was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Boyfriends?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The water was barely shin deep, which Ian thought was about as far in as he would get Mickey into the ocean, but the brunette looked happy enough. </p><p> </p><p>Amazingly, they were holding hands.This was a rare thing and Ian was living for it even if it was just a possessive response to their new female fan club.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had forgotten his sun glasses which Ian thought was a gift.He liked the way the ocean blue was reflected in Mickey’s eyes. He loved how alive those eyes were.It made his heart swell, being able to see Mickey happy.</p><p> </p><p>It was a struggle, he knew, for Mickey to give in and enjoy himself since the brunette was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.He was hoping this would be a chance for Mickey to just let go and have fun.So far, they seemed to be off to a pretty good start.</p><p> </p><p>“The water is so warm.” Mickey said, drifting away a little deeper into surf that was finally getting the hem of his shorts wet.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, super different from beaches closer to home where even when the water’s warm, it’s still cold compared to this.”Ian agreed thinking about the times he had gone out to Long Island and Virginia Beach.This was bathwater by comparison.</p><p> </p><p>“Like the lake.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, like the lake.”Ian agreed because that was the only frame of reference they shared about water.“We can come back here whenever you want, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.”Mickey said, distractedly watching the small waves lap at his legs.</p><p> </p><p>“Like maybe the next vacation, after Disney World, we bring the kids here.They’d love it.”Ian suggested.Things with Frannie would be settled by then.They would be engaged by then.It would be perfect.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey frowned, whatever peace he had momentarily found broken. </p><p> </p><p>Ian kicked the water.He should not have brought up Disney World.That had been fucking stupid.For his sixth birthday Mickey had promised Yevgeny they would go to Disney World.Yevgeny’s seventh birthday was almost upon them, but they had not gone yet.Mickey felt like he had reneged on a promise and arguing it wasn’t his fault that circumstances had been against him had so far not helped.</p><p> </p><p>Trying to smooth things over, Ian said, “So, I was thinking about Disney World.I know you wanted to take Yev this year, but the stars didn’t align to make that happen.The original plan was February, so why don’t we just shoot for February again?The park won’t be as crowded and the weather will be better.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Or, you stick to the original plan and just you and Yev go.”Ian offered, not wanting to intrude.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah.”Mickey shook his head.“We should all go, just hate that I lied to him.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t lie.Life just got in the way.Besides, it’ll be more fun this way.”Ian smiled, possibilities and plans already forming.“You know, I still haven’t been.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”Mickey looked up at him, eyebrow raised.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope.”He had been many places, but never to a Disney park.When he was single with no kids it never occurred to him to want to.Why would he subject himself to the crowds, the long lines, high prices, screaming children and frustration that accompanied those things? </p><p> </p><p>Now that he was a pseudo father of two, it had a new sort of appeal.None of them had ever been, but he had always wanted to go as a kid.So had Mickey.If he could get a photo of Mickey with Mickey Mouse he’d have something to tease the brunette with for the rest of their lives.That alone was enough to make him really want to go.“It’ll be fun to do it together.”</p><p> </p><p>“I still owe you a trip to the ballpark too.”Mickey replied, apparently dredging up all the promises he had made and so far not been able to keep.</p><p> </p><p>“True, you do owe me a date.”Ian agreed.Mickey had promised to take him to Yankee Stadium back at Christmas, but they had still not gone.Maybe now that Mickey seemed to be turning the corner, they would.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded, staring out at the Cancun skyline. They were still holding hands, still walking down the beach and Ian decided to just let it be.It was too beautiful a place and too fragile a moment to speak in.Ian inhaled the ocean air and exhaled, choosing peace over pain and willing his calm to seep into Mickey through their joined hands.</p><p> </p><p>They were just reaching a rocky point signifying the end of the resort’s beach when Mickey said, “I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled and squeezed Mickey’s hand.He had hoped coming here would do this for them.All signs so far pointed in the right direction. “I love you too.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked over his shoulder, the wind whipping his hair into his eyes.He brushed it back as he said, “I think our food came.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian turned to look too and yes, there were drinks and plates by their lounge chairs.His stomach growled.“Oh, yeah.You are seriously gonna love this.”</p><p> </p><p>They walked back and Mickey wasted no time digging in, going for the guacamole first.He dipped a chip and the second it hit his taste buds his eyes closed and he practically moaned, “Holy fuck, this is so <em>good</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes, smiling so hard he thought his cheeks would to start hurting soon.The food was as amazing as he remembered it, but what made it better was Mickey’s obvious pleasure.He’d give anything to keep this look on his face forever.“Right?I know.This is some of the best eating I’ve ever had and that’s saying a lot since I have you at home feeding me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever.I don’t make shit like this.”Mickey said, diving another chip into the guacamole.</p><p> </p><p>“You could though.If you wanted to.”Ian replied, finally getting another bite himself.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know shit about Mexican food.”Mickey disagreed, shoveling more guacamole into his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled even wider.He had made an arrangement to replace the snorkeling excursion, something he thought Mickey would really enjoy.“I know a chef who’s willing to change that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously?”Mickey asked, eating like he was ravenously hungry.</p><p> </p><p>Ian snatched up the almost empty bowl and wiped it clean with his finger to get the last of the guacamole.They would need to order more.“Yeah, Andres said he’d let you play in his kitchen for lunch tomorrow if you want to.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey grinned wide.“I could do that, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Later in the day, after Ian had gotten all the sun he thought he could handle they took a golf cart up to Playa del Norte on the north end of the island where most of the shops and restaurants were.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was driving.It was the first time he had been behind the wheel of anything in almost seven years.He missed driving, he realized, deciding when he got back to New York he would look into getting a car.There was a building that rented spaces a block from their house. </p><p> </p><p>The island traffic was golf carts with a few red taxis, scooters and motorcycles mixed in which Mickey was amused by, but it made sense.The island was small and this was a much cheaper mode of transportation.</p><p> </p><p>There were speed bumps to look out for and a fair number of drunk drivers, but given their top speed was maybe 20mph Mickey had ample time to look around.They were driving down the ocean side of the island which was very different from the lee side they were staying on.On this side it was easy to see that the island was volcanic, the low cliffs down to the sand looking jagged and dangerous.The waves were bigger.There were far fewer people on this side as the beaches were smaller and harder to reach. </p><p> </p><p>The further north they went the more houses started to appear.On the sea side they were mostly mansions and on the other side of the road there were lots of newer multi family dwellings and hotels.They went past a cemetery and then around a bend and they were suddenly in town.</p><p> </p><p>Ian, who had also been silently taking in the scenery, pointed to their left and said, “Trip Advisor says that place has great breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey read the sign.The Mango Cafe.He would look it up when they got back to the hotel.“Cool.Maybe we try it tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, its a date.”Ian agreed easily. </p><p> </p><p>It was obvious the redhead was happy and that made Mickey happy.Seeing Ian so relaxed and easy was everything.All he wanted in life was for Ian to always look like he looked right now.The contentment Mickey was feeling was borderline frightening.It never lasted and always ended badly.To combat the fear ticking at the edges of his good mood, he asked, “Any idea where we’re going?”</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t matter.” Ian shrugged. “Just find a place to park.”</p><p> </p><p>That took a little doing, but Mickey finally found a spot near yet another cemetery. Mickey wondered how many such a small island could have as he pulled his phone out to take a picture of the license plate on the golf cart.Without that to identify it, he had no idea how he would pick it out from all the other identical golf carts. </p><p> </p><p>“Smart idea.”Ian said as Mickey took the photo.He adjusted his hat and set off down the street.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey trotted after him to catch up.“Where’re we going?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nowhere in particular.Just thought it would be fun to walk around, window shop, you know?” Ian replied.</p><p> </p><p>They walked down the street past several small shops selling tee shirts and trinkets.Then the air took on a distinct scent that made Mickey’s mouth water.He looked around for the source.“Let’s go in there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”Ian agreed easily.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey bee lined for the vanilla display.Mexican vanilla had a different flavor than the kinds from Madagascar and Tahiti.He could get it off Amazon, but somehow being in the country it came from made it more special.Ian followed him, lazily looking around the shop.</p><p> </p><p>As the sales girl glued herself to Mickey trying to interest him in the different brands and varieties, Ian wandered around the store picking up random trinkets as he went.They were planning to bring back things for the kids and the rest of the family as gifts. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey didn’t buy anything despite the well applied pressure because he didn’t want to be loaded down with bags, but he planned to come back before they left the island. </p><p> </p><p>They moved on and outside almost every store were hawkers trying to bring tourists inside.Just as Mickey was getting annoyed by all the people trying to sell him stuff, Ian pulled him into another store, this time filled with tequilas.They were talked into a tasting, Ian sipping, Mickey drinking more than he should.Several of them were quite good and Ian bought a few bottles to have shipped back to New York.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was buzzed, possibly drunk, when they stepped back out onto the street.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you having a good time?”Ian asked as Mickey clutched onto his arm to not trip on the uneven pavement.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Mickey agreed.He felt carefree and while that worried him a little, he’d had far too much tequila to really care.“Drank too much.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian chuckled at him.“It was good tequila.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey agreed, deciding letting go of Ian’s arm was not a good idea.He was a little wobbly.</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s arm came around his waist and for a split second his panic spiked.What if someone saw?What would they assume?</p><p> </p><p>Then he remembered he was openly gay, the island was gay tolerant and if anyone watching them wasn’t, he was in the best shape of his goddamn life. Let them come. </p><p> </p><p>He could do with a good fight.Or a good fuck...but a good fight would do him wonders.</p><p> </p><p>Ian seemed aware of his struggles.“No one cares, Mickey.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked around them and it was true.No one seemed to notice or care than Ian was basically holding him upright.It was annoying how easily Ian accepted his sexuality and how little he cared what other people thought about it.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stumbled again and Ian caught him.“I think we need to put some more food in you.Sober you up a little.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, good idea.” Mickey agreed.He was willing to admit he was drunk now and his balance was off.He needed to absorb some of the alcohol in carbs and dilute what remained in water though he knew enough about medical shit to be skeptical of that strategy now. He wasn't sure it really worked that way, but he was absolutely certain he needed to hydrate.“Need some water too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s see what’s nearby.”Ian said pulling him around the corner onto another street that seemed to have more restaurants.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey wasn’t paying attention to where Ian was leading him, content to just be carried along as he watched the world go by.He was surrounded by people, all going in different directions, paired up or in groups, everyone looking free and easy like they didn’t have a care in the world. </p><p> </p><p>He still had a knot in his stomach.He wondered if he would ever not have a knot in his stomach.Maybe when Terry died, maybe then.</p><p> </p><p>Then the scent of well marinated, spicy grilled meat hit him, distracting him.Smell alone told him that was dinner.He tugged on Ian’s arm, pulling him in the direction of the glorious smell.“Wanna go in there.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian allowed himself to be led, smiling as he was dragged along.“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey inhaled deeply again.The closer he got to it, the more delicious it smelled.“Smell that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian agreed, sniffing.Then he started walking toward the source with more purpose.“Let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p>They were seated on an outdoor patio and handed menus. </p><p> </p><p>“Our fan club is on the prowl.”Mickey observed as the group of women from the hotel beach approached.</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled.“They look like <em>Sex and the City</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, the Jersey version, maybe.”Mickey scoffed.He had seen several episodes of the show since it was one of Mandy’s favorites.Other than there being four of them, Mickey couldn’t see the resemblance.They weren’t all white for one thing.They were older.They were not as skinny, well dressed or beautiful, but they were clearly close friends which he supposed was what mattered most.</p><p> </p><p>“One thing I’ve learned, it is never bad to have the girls on your side,” Ian told him with a smile.He raised a hand, “I’m gonna invite them over for a drink with us.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey immediately grabbed that hand and pulled it back down. “Don’t you dare.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want me all to yourself?”Ian’s smile turned into a smirk and the women walked past without noticing them.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you is what I want.”Mickey snarked back.</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s smirk grew feral and he leaned back in his chair.“I’d be down for that, if you want to.To fuck me, I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey almost choked on his water.“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s head cocked to the side like he didn’t understand Mickey’s surprise. “Yes, really.If you want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”Mickey grunted, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of reversing roles. Ian had mentioned once that he was versatile, but Mickey hadn’t believed him.He could not image Ian taking a dick.Even back in the day when he was working the clubs, the men who picked him up always wanted him to fuck them.That big cock was a hell of a draw in those little gold booty shorts. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey suddenly wondered about the nights he hadn’t been at the club keeping an eye on Ian, of the times Ian had been so high he was passing out in snow banks.What had happened to him then?Curious and more than a little concerned, he asked, “You ever done it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Couple times, yeah.”Ian told him, not looking like he was lying or withholding.He had a great poker face though and unless Mickey asked him directly if anyone had ever forced him, he doubted Ian would volunteer the information. </p><p> </p><p>“And?” Mickey asked, choosing not to think about that.It was the past.Ian was doing well.There was no reason to bring up possible past traumas just because he was wondering what if.</p><p> </p><p>Ian shook his head, smiling, oblivious to Mickey’s concerns.“And I want to do it with you sometime, if you want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Something to think about, I guess.”Mickey muttered, honestly surprised Ian had even voluntarily done it once, much less wanted to do it again.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t want to?”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t say that.”Mickey countered because the more he thought about it, the more appealing the idea became.He had fucked a lot of people, but it had only ever been to scratch an itch.What would it be like to be inside Ian, someone he loved, someone whose pleasure mattered to him more than his own? </p><p> </p><p>Yeah, he could be down for that.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“This bathroom really is insane.”Mickey said, mimicking what Ian had said earlier.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, right?”Ian agreed. The bathroom was an indoor/outdoor paradise.The vanity and toilet were inside, but the shower and tub were outside, open to the night sky and surrounded by lush foliage that mostly hid wooden privacy fencing.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey walked back into the bedroom, bare foot, dressed in boxers and a wife beater.His hair was wet, his eyes were bright and it was probably the most relaxed Ian had ever seen him.The stress that usually bunched in his shoulders was gone.</p><p> </p><p>Ian set down the bottle of water he was holding and walked over to Mickey.He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for, but when he was within reach, Mickey grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.Ian buried his face in Mickey’s neck and inhaled, taking in the scent of Mickey’s body wash.It was like crack and his dick twitched in response. He pushed out of the smaller man’s arms and made an adjustment.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey, of course, noticed and arched a brow before he made an adjustment of his own and asked, “You gonna leave the windows open?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you mind?”Ian liked the steady crash of the waves and the scent of the ocean.It was warm, but not hot and the fans made the room cool enough to sleep in. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey thought about it for a moment giving Ian a chance to review all the reasons leaving the windows open was a bad idea, things like security and privacy topping the list.Mickey scratched at the back of his neck and shrugged.“Nah, but what about bugs?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mosquito net exists for a reason.”Ian said pointing to the screens he had been able to pull closed in front of the windows and then to the bed and the white netting that framed the head of it and could be pulled all the way around.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged again and Ian waited for the smaller man to choose his side.Mickey liked to be closest to the entrance, but in this case there was the door and the open windows to defend.Ian wondered which he would choose.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey chose the side by the windows meaning Ian got the side by the door.Ian closed the mosquito nets over Mickey’s side and then climbed in himself making sure the netting was closed all the way around the bed.He shifted the pillows and laid back, watching as Mickey did the same, then he turned off the lights.</p><p> </p><p>They were quiet for a while, listening to the waves crash outside and the faint laughter of people who were still down by the water.Mickey broke the silence with a sigh.“This is amazing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Beautiful, right?”Ian agreed, looking out at the distant lights of the Cancun skyline that he could see through palm trees and foliage.He glanced over at Mickey and wished he could pull the smaller man into his arms.That would come though.Just being here was the next step on their journey back to each other.“I’m glad we got to come here together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.”Mickey agreed, shifting over closer to him while Ian didn’t move. “You gonna meet me in the middle here, or do I have to do everything?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian slid over into the middle of the bed meeting Mickey halfway.There were butterflies in his stomach.He wanted intimacy so badly and this place was about as romantic as a place could get, but he knew they ran the risk of too much, too soon.He was afraid Mickey would push too hard and screw it up or he would pull back too soon and screw it up...fuck, it was going to get screwed up.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey put a hand on his arm and Ian looked at him.The brunette leaned in and kissed him, the hand on his arm drifting up into orange curls.Ian parted his lips and let Mickey control the kiss which was much more aggressive and needy than Ian had been expecting.</p><p> </p><p>Turned on, he put a hand on Mickey’s neck, that long, smooth column of flesh that he loved to nibble on and suck at when they made love.He was hard as a rock and touching himself as Mickey pulled him in closer, the kiss intensifying. </p><p> </p><p>Holy shit, this was everything Ian wanted and everything he feared.It was moving way too fast.He knew it was when Mickey stopped kissing his mouth and his lips started moving down Ian’s neck. </p><p> </p><p>This was not the tentative, slow, figuring out where the boundaries were sexuality he expected.This was drunk, needy, and for those reasons frightening.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled back.“Mickey, slow down.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey pushed forward, hands on the hem of Ian’s shirt, lips against his ear when he said, “Take your shirt off.”</p><p> </p><p>“You first.”Ian demanded because Mickey didn’t like to be nude and it was a way of reminding him he was moving too fast without having to argue about it.</p><p> </p><p>To his surprise after a moment’s hesitation, Mickey pulled his shirt over his head and settled back into the pillows, glaring at him in challenge.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had not seen Mickey bare chested since Mickey had the flu.Back then he had been skinny, pale and crouched in on himself like he was trying to hide.Since then he had put on weight, all of it muscle, and the phoenix tattoo was now a finished fucking masterpiece scrolling over muscles that had never been so defined before.He was absolutely beautiful and Ian couldn’t help saying as much in terms Mickey would be flattered by.“Jesus, you’re ripped.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever.”Mickey snorted, putting a hand on his stomach, but not over the scar zippering up between his abdominals. </p><p> </p><p>Ian put a hand on top of Mickey’s hand. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey pulled his hand out from under Ian’s and pressed Ian’s hand into his flesh.“You don’t gotta be so careful.”</p><p> </p><p>“No?”Ian squeaked, surprised at the lack of uncertainty in Mickey’s eyes.He knew Mickey had been doing a lot of work, but he had not realized how effective it had apparently been.It implied the line was much further out than it had been in the past, but Ian still had no idea where it was.He did not want to discover it by awkwardly overstepping it either.Mickey had made too much progress for him to blunder the smaller man backwards.“Mickey, I’m not expecting anything, man. Like you don’t have to put out or anything.It’s not like that, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey pushed him hard.“The fuck you think you’re talking to?I’m not some chick paying for her dinner on her back.”</p><p> </p><p>So that had clearly not been the right move.He should have tried to be a little less blunt, but it was too late now.“Obviously, but I feel like maybe you’re trying to force something and I just want you to know I don’t expect or need you to.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s arms crossed over his chest, a clear sign he was shutting down.“Can we not just make out without you worrying about it for once?”</p><p> </p><p>“Since this is the first time we’re making out since I dunno when, can you blame me for being a little weird?”Ian retorted.</p><p> </p><p>“You not into me anymore, fire crotch?”Mickey asked, voice gravelly from anger, but eyes vulnerable.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, shit.Okay.Ian searched for a way to keep the breaks pumped but also make it clear it was because he loved Mickey he was slowing things down.Then he lit on what his actual intentions for the trip had been.Sitting up and crossing his legs, Ian faced Mickey and said, “Well, I don’t usually make out with my friends.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s eyes rolled.“Jesus.”</p><p> </p><p>It was the right move.Ian pushed it a little further.“Definitely not with my best friend, but my boyfriend?That would be different.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your boyfriend you can’t fuck?”Mickey asked, the defiance leaching out of him and the stress bunching back into his shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“My boyfriend who kisses me just how I like it? Whose touch gives me goose bumps?That guy?”Ian goaded, glad he had pulled back.“I really like making out with that guy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”Mickey groaned, but his lips split into a small smile.</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled back at him, holding out a hand and pulling Mickey back into his arms.“So, boyfriends?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, sure. Fine. Whatever.”Mickey grumbled, but he let Ian kiss him, so as far as Ian was concerned the night was a success.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Holy hell, what a week, huh?  I mean...come ON!  Storming the US Capitol?  Pipe bombs?  Seriously?!!?!  Straight up insurrection and they aren’t done.  Not by a long shot.  The inauguration is going to be insane.</p><p>This was an attempted coup d’tat on US soil.  The enemy is within.  It’s us.</p><p>They TOLD us what they were planning to do.  We were incredibility lucky this was a revolution of nitwits.  We will not be that lucky the next time and if we fail to hold a full and public accounting of what happened, if there are no consequences for the leaders who fanned the flames of sedition, it will happen again.  When it happens again it will be led by far smarter people who now have a roadmap to follow. </p><p>The blatant and repugnant difference in response to the Black Lives Matter protests vs. this insurrectionists coup attempt laid bare the deep, deep racism in law enforcement.  And coincidentally showed us that blue lives mattered - until they stood in their way.</p><p>We have soooooooooooooooooooo much work to do.</p><p>The silver lining to all of this is we now know what that work is.  There’s no pretending there aren’t racial disparities.  There’s no pretending we do not have a large, insane white supremacy terror network operating inside our boarders.  There is no pretending we can work on “norms” or rely on decorum anymore.  We need to shore up our institutions and put real consequences in place for defiance of those “norms”. </p><p>Please stay safe out there.  We got the senate back.  We kept the house.  We won the presidency.  Biden is nominating competent people, but fuck do they have a huge job ahead of them.  It’s not about restoring norms either.  Those norms are how we got here.  </p><p>It’s about justice.  </p><p>It’s about accountability.  </p><p>It’s about equality.  </p><p>The work starts now.</p><p>PS. Fuck all this “divisions must be unified bullshit” the GOP is trying to sell.  Fuck “coming together”.  I want us to remain divided from insurrectionists.  I want them ostracized and marginalized.  We are what we tolerate and I will not tolerate hate.  Those people can fuck all the way off and then fuck off some more.  </p><p>The rest of us, need to have a national dialog about who we want to be going forward from here - that’s all the unity I’m willing to accept.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Fan Club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey woke up with Ian pressed against his back.He was hot and sweaty, but he didn’t move.He didn’t want to.It felt good and even the realization there was a hard on pressing against his butt cheek didn’t undo it.Ian wasn’t the only one sporting some morning wood anyway.</p><p> </p><p>He stretched and rolled over on his back, Ian adjusting to him.Now his erection was digging into Mickey’s hip, his arm was draped over Mickey’s stomach and one of his knees was on top of Mickey’s.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sighed and stretched.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed had talked about finding his bliss, and in this moment Mickey was pretty sure he’d found it.The sound of waves crashing, the scent of the ocean, the man wrapped around him like an octopus, he could not think of a way he would rather wake up.</p><p> </p><p>There was no dog to let out, kid to dress, breakfast to make, job to go to, nothing to do but lay there dozing in the early morning sunshine.He didn’t even have a hangover like he thought he would.</p><p> </p><p>Ian snuggled in closer to him.</p><p> </p><p>“You awake?”Mickey asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”Ian muttered back, nose burrowing into Mickey’s neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Mickey wrapped an arm around Ian’s, utterly content to lay there all day.What the fuck were vacations for if not this?</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed and his breath was hot against Mickey’s neck and that took him back to sharing Ian’s single bed, silently fucking while Ian’s brothers slept in the same room.If he rolled over on his side they would be perfectly positioned.Ian was built to wrap around him like this, to fill him, please him, love him.</p><p> </p><p>He let those thoughts roll around in his head for a moment, unraveling them like a ball of twine, separating the pleasant memories from the unpleasant ones.He knew when they finally did have sex that was the position they would do it in because when Ian made love to him, that was how he had done it.</p><p> </p><p>The idea of trying was tempting, but just like last night he knew he wasn’t ready yet.He still had some emotional work to do.He had done none of the physical preparation necessary to have the sort of sex he was thinking about either. </p><p> </p><p>They had barely started kissing again and it was way better now than it had been.He wasn’t freaked out by it.Ian’s hands on his skin were okay.Ian’s tongue in his mouth was better than okay.If there was a next level Mickey figured it would be jerking each other off which was a suggestion he was tempted to make right now.</p><p> </p><p>Ian must have been thinking the same because his hand drifted down from Mickey’s abdomen to his groin brushing over his dick before passing along to his opposite hip, sort of like a sexual fly by to see if a landing was possible.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed pretty damn possible to Mickey.He pushed his hips up, silently asking Ian to touch him, hoping he would get the message because talking would ruin it.</p><p> </p><p>Ian did get it, his hand coming back, cupping him, holding still, waiting for Mickey to decide if that was okay.It was not a hard decision.Mickey pushed his hips up again and Ian found the opening to his boxers wrapping his hand around Mickey’s dick.</p><p> </p><p>Seven years, Mickey thought as that hand gently squeezed like Ian was asking permission.It had been seven years since Ian had touched him like this.Was it okay?There were all sorts of thoughts in his head, jumbled up and strangely ambivalent, the good and the bad nearly balancing, but this was Ian.It was Ian and it was okay.He thrust up again, permission granted.</p><p> </p><p>Ian went to work, slow at first, the lack of a lubricant keeping things gentle.It wasn’t like Mickey would last long anyway.In fact he barely made it a minute, but rather than be ashamed he couldn’t hold out, he gave in to the pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>When Ian released him and went to work on his own hard on Mickey felt mildly guilty for not returning the favor.He wondered if he could do it.He wanted to, but there were uncomfortable memories to confront there and he didn’t want to ruin what was so far a perfect morning.</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s breath hitched not long after, the redhead no more able to hold out than he had been.Mickey held still as Ian quietly came, glad to be able to just enjoy a moment of mutual contentment.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning.” Ian sighed into his neck a short time later, kissing right over his carotid pulse.</p><p> </p><p>“Best morning I’ve had in fuck knows how long.”Mickey agreed, unconcerned that he was covered in sweat or that his shorts were sticky.He had no bones at the moment and that was just fine with him.Laying there with Ian, both of them sexually sated at the same time, it was more than enough for Mickey to finally define the word bliss.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna get up and get breakfast?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.“I have no bones right now.I’ll have to get back to you on that.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian yawned.“Yeah, I don’t really feel like moving either.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, I don’t think I can.”Mickey groaned as his stomach rumbled.Hunger was going to drag him out of bed sooner than he wanted to get up.</p><p> </p><p>“Who knew a hand job could be so good?”Ian asked, stretching and putting a little distance between them. </p><p> </p><p>Air immediately filled the space, cool against sweat soaked skin.Mickey broke out in goose flesh and shivered.Everything about this morning was pretty damn close to perfect, everything but, “I’ll get you back.Maybe tonight, we’ll see.”</p><p> </p><p>“No rush.I’m not worried about it.”Ian said, sitting up and running a hand through wild curls.Then his green eyes cut over to look at Mickey.“I am going to give you the blow job of your life tonight though, if you want me to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why the fuck <em>wouldn’t</em> I want you to?”Mickey asked.The idea of Ian’s mouth on him was more than a little arousing.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay then.It’s a date.”Ian smiled and stood up, cracking his back. “Speaking of dates, don’t I have a breakfast date with my boyfriend at Mango Cafe this morning?”</p><p> </p><p>“After you run, yeah. I guess you do.”They were on vacation, but some things were sacred, Ian’s routine being one of them.</p><p> </p><p>Ian nodded and started rummaging through the suitcase.“You wanna come with me?”</p><p> </p><p>“You think I can run eight six minute miles?The fuck’s wrong with you?”Mickey groused, finally sitting up and stretching.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have run all of it.”Ian said, done gathering clothes and walking towards the bathroom.“We could just do some Baywatch shit for our fan club.Give them a hell of a memory to take home.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.“You really think you’re that hot?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian poked his head back out of the bathroom and smirked.“I know you are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Asshole.”Mickey muttered, blushing.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Running on sand was fucking hard, Mickey quickly discovered.The other thing he discovered was that he was in much better cardiovascular shape than he thought.They made it to the edge of Playa del Norte before turning around and running ran back to the hotel.Mickey was pretty much dying by the time they got back while Ian looked like he could easily do it again, but it was enough to keep up Ian’s routine so Mickey was okay with it even if he did feel like he might vomit.</p><p> </p><p>As he crouched there, bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath and calm his stomach, Ian stretched his stupidly long arms over his head and said, “You’re in much better shape than I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do I <em>look</em> out of shape?”Mickey asked, offended.He had muscles were he had never had them before.Most of them were visible too, since the shirt he was wearing had the arms cut out almost down to the hemline. It was more a smock than a shirt and the only thing it really hid was his abdominal scar.He thought of it as progress.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck no.”Ian denied, giving him a leering once over.“You look ripped as hell.I just didn’t think you were doing any cardio.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh.Mickey stood up, the nausea having eased along with his breathing.It was easy to forget that in the months Mickey had forced them to avoid each other, Ian had no way to know what he had been doing or not doing.To clear up the misunderstanding he said, “I’ve been doing the elliptical at the gym.It’s easier on my joints.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s face immediately fell.</p><p> </p><p>“Running every once in a while isn’t going to kill me.” Besides, some of the martial arts stuff he was learning also wasn’t great for his joints.He was a scrappy guy who didn’t fight fair, but that had not been enough in prison.He wanted to be stronger, faster and better trained the next time he got into fight. </p><p> </p><p>“I just need you to live into your 90’s so I’m gonna worry sometimes.”Ian told him, smiling that goofy smile Mickey had a love/hate relationship with.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted, surprised he had made it to 25 and might even make it to 30.Longevity wasn’t something he dwelled on.He’d rather just enjoy the time he had instead of worrying about how long it would last.</p><p> </p><p>Ian seemed to understand because he changed the subject.“I’m gonna do some stretching. </p><p>You take the first shower.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes.What Ian really meant was he was going to waste the next 30 minutes of his life doing yoga like some rich yuppy fuck.“Yeah, okay, downward facing dog.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you.”Ian called after him as Mickey walked up the little path to their hotel suite.</p><p> </p><p>“Working on it.”Mickey quipped back flipping him the bird.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The Mango Cafe lived up to it’s reputation, Ian was pleased to discover.The stuffed pablano was amazing and Mickey, who judged restaurants by their eggs benedict, raved about their blue corn cake version of his favorite morning dish.</p><p> </p><p>Ian ate way too much and sat waiting while Mickey ate even more.“This is so fucking <em>good</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Trip Advisor usually gets it right.”Ian said, looking around the tiny restaurant at all of the art on the walls thinking maybe he would buy something.</p><p> </p><p>“Check out the turtle behind you.”Mickey suggested around a forkful.</p><p> </p><p>Ian turned to look and it was a mosaic made of sea glass that depicted a sea turtle hanging in the window.He got up to go take a closer look.</p><p> </p><p>It was even cooler up close and he went to talk with the restaurant owner to arrange purchase and delivery.Turned out he had to just pay for it and figure out how to get it on the plane himself, but that was fine by Ian.He bought it.</p><p> </p><p>“How much you shell out for that?” Mickey asked as Ian carefully loaded his prize onto the back seat of the golf cart.</p><p> </p><p>“Three hundred.”Ian told him, knowing he was about to get razzed.</p><p> </p><p>As expected, Mickey scoffed, “You got fleeced.”</p><p> </p><p>“I got what I wanted.They get what they asked for.”Ian replied.Creatives were rarely paid what their work was worth.It was undervalued while they were alive, and sometimes vastly overvalued after they died.He preferred making sure people made a living wage.He shrugged. “It’s a win, win.”</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t let people take advantage of you like that.”Mickey disagreed, climbing into the drivers seat and starting the engine.</p><p> </p><p>“Art’s subjective.To me, three hundred bucks was worth it.Clearly it wasn’t to you.”Ian said climbing in beside him. “You gonna keep busting my balls over some wall art or are we gonna get you to your cooking lesson?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey checked traffic and then made a u-turn turning them back towards their hotel.“Still think you overpaid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Still don’t care.”Ian replied, smirking.He had more money than he could spend in this lifetime.Overpaying, which he still did not think he did, was no big deal.</p><p> </p><p>“What’re you gonna do while I’m cooking?”Mickey asked as they passed the hillside cemetery.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought maybe I’d snorkel around the pier.When I was walking on it this morning it looked like there might be some reefs under it.”Ian replied.He had really wanted to go on the snorkeling excursion he’d originally booked, but since Mickey didn’t swim he opted out.He hoped there were fish or something under the pier.He’d soon find out. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh.That dangerous?”Mickey asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope.It’s literally the hotel’s pier.You can see it from the cabana and the pool bar.” Ian smiled.Mickey could be such a mother hen, he thought.Sometimes it annoyed him, but right now it made him feel loved. </p><p> </p><p>“Probably not from the kitchen though.”Mickey said, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>“So?There’s no current, no rip tide, no boats coming in and there are tons of people on the beach.I’m not gonna drown or get eaten.This isn’t <em>Jaws</em>.” Ian said, ticking off all the reasons there was nothing to worry about. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s frown only deepened.</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes and squeezed Mickey’s knee. “It’s cute you’re worried about me.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shoved him hard enough to almost push him out of the golf cart.Ian barely hung on as Mickey swerved, the force of his shove enough to effect his steering.“Jesus!You worry I’ll get killed swimming, but you’re just fine shoving me into oncoming traffic?”</p><p> </p><p>“You die and I’ll kill you.”Mickey growled, but he did reach out to make sure Ian didn’t fall all the way out of the golf cart.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was five minutes past noon when Mickey walked out of the kitchen into the cabana.He looked hot.Imminently fuckable, but also like he needed some water and a cool shower. </p><p> </p><p>“Your boyfriend sure is cute.”Alma, the leader of their fan club, said. </p><p> </p><p>Ian had finished his swim and when he was lounging on the beach they sat down next to him.It wasn’t long before they struck up a conversation.They were as fun as he hoped they would be, so now they were at the bar inside the cabana drinking.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, don’t let him hear you say that though.”Ian chuckled.Mickey was too self deprecating to appreciate a compliment and being called cute tended to piss him off.Ian had warned them Mickey could be prickly with new people, but all of these women were mothers with sons near their ages, so they mostly blew off his warnings.</p><p> </p><p>“Does he have any older brothers?”Donna asked, brown eyes twinkling.</p><p> </p><p>“Four of them, but the only one worth a damn is already taken.”Ian replied.Mickey was lightyears from his brothers, though Iggy was pretty cool.“None of them look like him either.Different mothers.”</p><p> </p><p>“Too bad.”Donna shrugged with a teasing smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I got the pick of the litter, truth be told.”Ian bragged, smiling.Mickey was, in his opinion, the best looking of the Milkovich brothers.He loved Mickey’s velvety soft black hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes.He loved his sharp wit, biting tongue and how both were used to mask a big heart.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey took that moment to approach them.“Hey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Mick.” Ian greeted and then turned to the women with him to make introductions. “This is Alma, Carol, Donna and Margaret.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah.The fan club.S’up.”Mickey said with barely a glance.He was entirely focused on Ian. “What do you wanna eat?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian shared a look with the ladies.He had told them about the rough exterior with it’s gruff rudeness and snark.He had wanted them to know what to expect so if Mickey acted like he was acting they wouldn’t be surprised or upset by it.“We’ve been talking about that.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey arched an irritated eyebrow at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I want the sea bass.Alma wants the fish tacos.Carol and Donna want to split the steak fajitas and Margaret is going for the enchiladas suizas.”Ian said, ordering for all of them because Mickey would not have waited to take the others’ orders. </p><p> </p><p>“Jesus.”Mickey muttered with a frown, but he’d written it all down just as Ian knew he would.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the grumpy brunette turned away Ian called after him, “Ceviche and guac to start.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey spun around and glared at him.“I’m not a fucking short order cook.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who said anyone expects you to make all of it?”Ian asked, looking at the women sitting with him and rolling his eyes to reassure them.Since they were teens it had been his self appointed job to gloss over Mickey’s rough edges. </p><p> </p><p>Some understood better than others.Alma returned the eye roll and upped the ante asking, “Are you any good as a bartender?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh, did you learn how to make the margarita?”Margaret butted in, leaning forward looking eager.“They’re fabulous!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.“So?”</p><p> </p><p>“Can we get a round of those too, love?”Carol asked, her New Zealand accent just as charming as the teasing light in her eyes, in Ian’s opinion at least.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey did not share his opinion.“Fuck you is what you can get.”</p><p> </p><p>It was such a predictable response.Ian muttered, “From your lips to God’s ears.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s expression changed, softening a little.He cocked an eyebrow at Ian.“You look like you’ve already had a few.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re on vacation.”Ian said in defense of the two margarita’s he’d nursed over the past couple hours. </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you are.I’m stuck in the fucking kitchen feeding your ass, just like at home.”Mickey growled, stalking off to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow.”Donna said, staring at Ian wide eyed.“You warned us, but still, wow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, don’t worry.Like I said, that’s just Mickey.”Ian shrugged.It was a little more nasty than he’d expected, but Mickey had not liked their fan club from the moment he noticed them so being an asshole about cooking for them wasn’t surprising.“He’s not really mad.”</p><p> </p><p>What Mickey was, was scared.He was afraid of failing, but when he brought out five successful dishes plus appetizers, he’d be shit eating grin proud of himself.Once the compliments started flowing he’d melt like ice cream in summer.“He might not look like it, but he’s actually having a good time.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you say so.”Margaret said with an unconvinced shrug.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s an acquired taste.”Ian told them again.Mickey knew he made a terrible first impression and had been working on it, with admittedly limited success if this encounter was anything to go by, but he was trying.Just maybe not today.</p><p> </p><p>“Like Vegimite.”Carol teased, clearly not that worried about Mickey’s rudeness.</p><p> </p><p>They chatted a little more, Ian telling Mickey stories to make sure these women knew his boyfriend wasn't really an asshole.He just acted like one when he was uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>“Here’s your fucking appetizers.”Mickey announced practically throwing the bowl of guacamole at Ian before he more carefully placed the ceviche and bowl of chips on the table.A server came behind him with a tray of margaritas.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you make this?”Alma asked around a mouthful of guacamole.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey crossed his arms and arched a defensive eyebrow.“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Whatever Alma might have said was drowned out by Margaret loudly moaning, “Oh my God, this is so <em>good</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian took a bite of the ceviche which was everything he expected it to be.“I just want to know you got the recipe for this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah.I made ‘em and I can make them again.”Mickey said, posture loosening a fraction in response to the complements, just as Ian had predicted.</p><p> </p><p>“Ian, I am amazed you aren’t as round as you are tall if you have someone at home feeding you like this.”Carol teased.</p><p> </p><p>There was a good reason for that.“Right?Since Mickey started feeding me I’ve had to spend extra time in the gym, but damn is it worth it.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey took a chip and dipped it in the guacamole.Ian did the same with the ceviche.“Did you try the ceviche, Mickey, or just make it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not eating sushi.”Mickey responded.</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled.“So you tried it and you liked it, but you’re still a stubborn mule.”</p><p> </p><p>“The ceviche is marinated in lemon juice which cooks it.”Mickey said, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Riiiiight.”Ian teased, sharing a look with Carol and Donna.</p><p> </p><p>“You want a chemistry lesson, or you want your entrees?”Mickey asked, arching an irritated eyebrow at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Food, please.”Alma said around a mouthful of guacamole.</p><p> </p><p>As Mickey stalked back into the kitchen, Margaret said, “That man can <em>cook</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah.”Ian agreed getting more of the ceviche.“He’s only been doing it for about a year, but he has a real knack for it.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was sweet of you to arrange something like this for him.”Donna said, smiling.</p><p> </p><p>“He loves to cook. I love him. Ipso facto, he get’s a cooking lesson from a very good chef.”Andres was also the owner of the resort, but Ian figured Mickey knew that by now.Andres liked to talk.</p><p> </p><p>“And you get to eat more good food.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian leaned back in his chair and spread his arms out wide.“Everybody wins.”</p><p> </p><p>“Smug bastard.”Carol laughed at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Just a very well fed, very happy man.”Ian smiled, feeling as content as he ever had in his life.</p><p> </p><p>They had finished the appetizers and most of the margaritas by the time Mickey came back out holding a plate which he set down in front of Ian.“Sea bass.The rest is right behind me.”</p><p> </p><p>The plate was beautiful and the aroma was amazing.Ian immediately dug in, not waiting for his table mates to get their food.The fish was cooked perfectly.“Holy fuck, Mickey.I’ve had this dish before you know.I think yours might be better.”</p><p> </p><p>Chef Andres came out with a server who had the rest of the dishes on a tray.He reached out and ruffled Mickey’s hair like he would a son. “Agreed.The broth is a marvel, better than mine and he doesn’t know what he did differently.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey slapped the hand away and smoothed his hair back down.“I followed the fucking recipe.”</p><p> </p><p>Andres shrugged, smiling.“Chef’s magic.Some just have a gift.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, we made it another week.</p><p>Trump is now the only president to be impeached twice - setting records, just like he always boasted.</p><p>Right wing media has tried soooooo hard to twist the insurrection into something else (I’ve been watching Fox) and so far been unsuccessful finding the sound bite that diminishes the severity of the crisis they helped cause.  </p><p>Sadly, I predict Trump will pardon all of the insurrectionists, his crotch goblins, cronies and himself as a final fuck you to the nation.  I hope we get all of them on state charges.  I also hope all of them continue being assholes because pardons only cover past crimes.</p><p>I don’t know about y’all, but I’ve been listening to Biden and his cabinet members (pending Senate confirmation) talk about their plans for the coming months and, Jesus, what a relief to finally hear competent, cogent plans being laid out by actual experts in their various fields.  </p><p>Are we at the base of an Alpine size mountain of shit to get over?  Yes.</p><p>Do we finally have the leadership needed to start the climb?  Yes.</p><p>What we cannot do, is let the crimes of the last four years slide.  We cannot get comfortable and complacent now that the grown ups are in charge again.  2022 determines control of the House and Senate.  Locally, it will determine the redistricting for many states. GOP is a minority party in nearly all states.  They only win state/national elections if they can gerrymander districts to give themselves an artificial edge.  We have to ensure they can’t do that so that our government(s) reflects the will of the majority, not an increasingly marginalized, radicalized, white national christo-fascist minority.  </p><p>(Yeah, as an exvangelical, I said what I said.  This is a hill I will die on.  Bring it.)</p><p>Unity comes through accountability and consequences.  The big lies Trump/GOP told/ignored/supported must be outed for what they are.</p><p>The world is watching.</p><p>Stay safe.  Breathe.  It’s gonna suck for a while, but we’re getting through this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They ended up spending the afternoon with their fan club.As much as he had not wanted to, Mickey ended up liking them.They were leaving in the morning, so they drank together until the bar closed.Mickey didn’t mind.</p><p> </p><p>“You have a good day?”Ian asked as they made their way back to their suite.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.That was fun.”Mickey had almost backed out, intimidated to be in a real kitchen with an actual chef.Everything he knew about cooking came from Pinterest and YouTube.Andres was nothing like Gordon Ramsey though.He was a short, squat man with a jovial demeanor and encouraging teaching style.It had been fun being in the kitchen with him.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  While he had been cooking, Ian had been snorkeling.  </span>“You see some cool shit under the pier?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s face lit up.“There was some really cool stuff down there.Lots of tropical fish, couple rays, oh and a baby barracuda I think.That was pretty cool.I also saw an octopus for a split second, but those little suckers are fast.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey grinned as Ian rambled on telling him about why he thought it was a barracuda even though it was small.He had no idea Ian liked fish so much.During a pause he reached out and grabbed Ian’s hand.“Sounds pretty cool.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian squeezed.“Yeah.It was.”</p><p> </p><p>They got to the suite and stepped into air conditioned comfort.Mickey kicked his shoes off and flopped down on the couch.Ian flopped down next to him and continued telling him about the octopus and it’s amazing camouflage.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey just sat there smiling.This was his favorite version of Ian, the calm, relaxed, easy going guy Ian had been as a teen before the bipolar happened.Listening to him talk about snorkeling made Mickey want to see the fish too.He mused, “Maybe I should learn how to swim.”</p><p> </p><p>“That would be awesome.”Ian said, leaning into him.Mickey adjusted so he could put an arm around Ian’s shoulders.“There’s this place on Oahu I really want to go to some time called Hanama Bay that has some of the best snorkeling in the U.S.”</p><p> </p><p>“You really like snorkeling, huh?”Mickey smiled wider, deciding he would definitely take swimming lessons when he got home.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s like being in another world.I think you’d like it if you were comfortable in the water.”Ian said, putting a hand on Mickey’s thigh and rubbing.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded though Ian couldn’t see.He would find swim lessons when they got back to New York. Maybe he could take the kids and they’d all learn together. </p><p> </p><p>They were quiet for a while, Ian still stroking Mickey’s thigh.Mickey wondered what the redhead was thinking about but didn’t want to ask.The moment was too peaceful. </p><p> </p><p>“What do you want to do tomorrow?”Ian broke the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing.”Mickey yawned.He wanted to lounge around on the beach drinking margaritas and watching the world go by.He wanted one day where there was nothing to do, nothing to worry about, to just drift in a sea of tranquility before he had to re-enter the noise of New York and family and work and children and the anxiety of responsibilities and the fear of not living up to them.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian agreed with a yawn of his own.Then he sat up and stretched.“I promised you a blow job tonight, if you still want one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Way to ease into that,” Mickey said with a chuckle. “But seriously, who turns down a hummer?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian leaned back in, kissing him.It felt good and Mickey melted into it until Ian shifted their collective weight with Ian mostly on top, his weight on Mickey, holding him down, constraining him.Mickey pushed him off.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?”Ian asked wearing a fragile expression Mickey recognized all too well.Ian was thinking he had fucked up and pushed him too far.</p><p> </p><p>Ian hadn’t done anything wrong, but that didn’t change the fact it was too much.It was just the weight.As much as he didn’t want to, Mickey had to move slower and allow time for processing through the complex emotions he had to untangle to be able to enjoy something he had once loved.He didn’t know how to say that to Ian though, so instead he said, “I’m gonna take a shower.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Okay.”Ian agreed quietly, rubbing a hand over his face.His disappointment wasn’t directed at Mickey.It was directed at himself like somehow he had fucked up.</p><p> </p><p>How Mickey felt about this response was complicated.He knew the thing Ian worried about most was consent, but the only time Ian had pushed him beyond that boundary was when he was manic and it was out of his control.</p><p> </p><p>Every other time, Ian stopped and usually before Mickey wanted him to.Sometimes Mickey didn’t think they would have to stop if he just had a little more time to process his feelings while still engaged in what was making him uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>Ian rarely gave him that, too concerned about pushing too far.Sometimes he thought about demanding Ian not stop until he used their safe word but the stress that would cause Ian might be more than the redhead could take.It was such a delicate balance they were trying to maintain.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t do anything wrong.” </p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Ian said, reaching for the TV remote.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey walked to the bathroom wishing, not for the first time, that he was a better communicator.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ian was staring at the TV watching a Spanish dubbed version of <em>Die Hard</em>.He felt terrible.It had probably been rolling Mickey onto his back that did it.There just wasn’t enough room on the couch and he should have moved them to the bedroom, but had been too caught up in the moment to think of it before it was too late.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey poked his head back into the living room.“Wanna join me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously?”Ian asked. He had thought the shirtless episode from the night before was a big deal.This was huge by comparison. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s a one time, take it or leave it offer, Gallagher.”Mickey snapped, ducking back into the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>“Coming!”Ian scrambled to get off the couch.He wasn’t dumb enough to deny Mickey something like this.If the smaller man wanted to shower together, Ian was happy to comply.</p><p> </p><p>In the bathroom he found Mickey, stripped down to his boxers.He looked uncomfortable, but not freaked out.“Don’t make a big deal out of this, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.”Ian agreed, though how he was supposed to do that he had no idea.</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna strip or what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”Ian took a deep breath and told himself to calm down and not over think it.It was just a shower, a huge step forward, but still just a shower.</p><p> </p><p>Ian pulled his shirt over his head and glanced in the mirror.Mickey was watching him.Ian turned away and untied the drawstring on his board shorts letting them fall to his ankles.He stepped out of them and walked out to the shower.He looked up at the open sky as he turnedthe water on holding a hand under it waiting for it to get warm.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stepped past him into the tepid water. </p><p> </p><p>Ian wanted to ogle him, but he didn’t.Instead he kept his eyes up and followed the shorter man into the spray. </p><p> </p><p>“Can I wash your hair?”Ian asked, feeling awkward and like he needed to do something but that something had to be nonsexual.Mickey had historically only let him wash his hair twice, but had seemed to enjoy it both times.It would be a start if Mickey let him.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Mickey stopped scrubbing at his face and looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.His pensive expression turned into a speculative one.</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled, relieved to have struck the right tone, and grabbed the little bottle of Mickey’s shampoo.“Sit on the bench.”</p><p> </p><p>It was more like a chair made of teak wood, but Mickey picked it up, moving it so Ian could get behind it and he could sit in it.“Reminds me of the shower chair.I hated that fucking thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled, pouring shampoo into his palm.“You’ll like this one.I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sat while grumbling, “I better.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes at the pretend threat and ran his soaped hands through Mickey’s hairworking up a lather and then slowly rubbing at Mickey’s scalp.The smaller man leaned his head back, eyes closed, relaxing into the chair.Ian let his eyes roam down over Mickey’s exposed body.</p><p> </p><p>He remembered those meaty thighs and that beautiful uncut cock he really wanted to wrap his lips around. </p><p> </p><p>“You staring at my dick, fire crotch?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian swallowed and decided to be honest.“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey chuckled.“Gonna suck it?”</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna let me?”Ian asked, almost certain that in spite of what he had said earlier Mickey would refuse.He was naked, vulnerable, and using nicknames.</p><p> </p><p>“Thinking about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian nodded.It was as he expected.“Tilt your head back.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey complied leaning back and letting his head fall heavily into Ian’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Feels good.”Mickey muttered, settling into the chair.Ian could see his abdomen now, admiring the way the light and water combined to show off the wash board Mickey had managed to create of his abs.The scar running between them was barely noticeable on it’s own and with the phoenix tattoo as a distraction Ian didn’t think a causal observer would even see it. </p><p> </p><p>He closed his eyes and focused on his hands in Mickey’s hair. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey seemed to know.“The point is to look, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.I’m looking.”Ian opened his eyes again and let his eyes wander over the man he loved.The last time Ian had seen him nude Mickey had been so sick he shat his pants and barfed all over both of them.Before that, Ian assumed the last time Mickey had been naked in front of anyone was when he had been raped.Surely there had been a lot of unintentional nudity in hospital but in Ian’s opinion that didn’t count.He doubted it counted in Mickey’s either.</p><p> </p><p>So, Ian could stare at Mickey’s dick or appreciate those thick thighs that could hold him in a vice grip he didn’t want to escape, but as much as he loved both of those features, his attention turned back to the scar Mickey hated more than all the rest.Ian had touched it several times before, drawn to it for reasons he couldn’t really explain other than it was a physical reminder that Mickey was the toughest bastard he knew.He put a deliberate hand on it now and tried to make light of it.“At least it gives some great definition.You could get fat and still have an ab line.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s one way to look at it.”Mickey said, putting his hand over Ian’s and pressing. Ian wasn’t sure if it was because he welcomed the touch or was forcing himself to endure it.It was hard to tell sometimes. “If I get too fat, it’ll be ugly as hell.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll still love you though.”Ian replied.He would love this man for the rest of his life and probably several lifetimes beyond.He ran his hand up Mickey’s belly to his chest to where the badly spelled tattoo of his name used to be.He had to give Mickey some credit for the self done tattoo that had been applied upside down and backwards. It was gone now.</p><p> </p><p>The phoenix tattoo obliterated it and Ian was glad for that.The old tattoo was a remnant of desperation.The phoenix was a metaphor for the future.Mickey had been burned down, but he was emerging stronger, wiser and freer.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”Mickey questioned, eyes still closed, hand on his stomach over the scar. </p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed.They had come a long way, but there was a lot of history behind them.He had given Mickey many more reasons to doubt his love than to believe in it.Lately, it had seemed better, but Ian thought the doubt he heard was truthful.It made sense, but it hurt because the cause could only be mitigated, not eradicated.“Always.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs.“I guess you can suck my dick now.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled hoping Mickey would actually let this happen. He would make it the best blow job of Mickey’s life if the smaller man could tolerate it.He came around the chair to face the love of his life and dropped to his knees. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s head was resting on Mickey’s leg and one of his arms was curled around Mickey’s thigh, fingers petting over the scar on Mickey’s knee.Mickey was absently running his fingers through wet, red hair as he started up at the night sky.</p><p> </p><p>The water raining down on them was pleasant which was probably why neither of them had moved yet.He had never had a moment like this and he wanted it to last.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had always given a great hummer, but damn had he learned a few things since the last time.That had been without doubt the best blow job of Mickey’s life.</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed and Mickey found the energy to lift his head and look down at the beautiful man curled up between his legs on the shower floor.“You okay down there?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian said, shifting his weight a little and changing his grip on Mickey’s leg.</p><p> </p><p>From his angle, the way Ian was sitting looked uncomfortable.“Wanna go to bed?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian didn’t move.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotta get up for that.”Mickey teased, ruffling Ian’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian repeated, still not moving.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged.If Ian wanted to stay down there, so be it.“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>After a moment Ian raised his head and looked at him.“Maybe we order in breakfast in bed and just don't get up tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, we’re going down to the beach, staking out some lounge chairs and then you can be as lazy as you wanna down there.”Mickey disagreed.They were in paradise and he was going to squeeze every last second out of it.</p><p> </p><p>Ian pushed himself upright and smirked down at him.“But you hate PDA.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so that’s the sort of day in bed you wanna have, huh?”Mickey returned the smirk and stood up.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.That’s the sort of day I want to have.”Ian grinned, reaching around Mickey to turn off the water. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey just stared at him, watching Ian’s muscles move under his skin.It was sort of mesmerizing.When Ian caught him looking Mickey glanced away.</p><p> </p><p>Ian handed him a towel saying, “Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“What for?” </p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”Ian said stepping past him back into the indoor part of the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>“Who says I’m uncomfortable?”Mickey asked, following him inside, confused about where that had come from. </p><p> </p><p>Ian shrugged, drying off.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not uncomfortable.”Mickey said, because he wanted to be clear on this point. “In fact, from here on, if I don’t say octopus, you don’t stop.How’s that for comfortable?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian had just grabbed some boxer shorts and was holding them like he was going to step into them but stopped to look at Mickey. “But...”</p><p> </p><p>“Consent is revoked with octopus.”Mickey said.“Until then, I want you to assume I want you to keep doing what you’re doing even if you think I’m being weird about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian stood all the way up.“But...”</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes there’s just too much shit in my head and I need to work through it but then you pull back before I can.I need you to stop fucking pulling back.”Mickey said, surprised he was finding the words for what he had been wanting to tell Ian. </p><p> </p><p>“But...”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey wrapped the towel around his waist.“You have to trust me to know where my limits are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes you push your limits though.”Ian reminded him, still standing there with his boxers in his hand like the conversation they were having had stolen his ability to dress himself. </p><p> </p><p>“And if I do, that’s on me and I’ll be the one who owes you an apology.”Mickey said, deciding he wasn’t going to bother getting dressed for bed.This was all part of recreating his normal.Sleeping nude was something he used to do.It was something he was going to try to do now.Besides, “The really hard stuff is still ahead of us.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”Ian replied, watching as Mickey dropped the towel and climbed into bed.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had been thinking a lot about how he was going to tackle the next part of this.“I’m gonna do as much of it as I can by myself but eventually, I’m gonna need you to...do stuff.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Ian agreed, finally stepping into the boxers he was holding.</p><p> </p><p>“Like, I think we’ve overcome the dick thing.”Mickey said because as far as Mickey’s dick was concerned they had.The next step was getting ready to deal with Ian’s.“All that’s really left is my ass, man.You’ve done it so you know it’s not just an any old time you feel like it sort of deal.You gotta prepare for it, clean out, stretch out, all that shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sex always seemed so spontaneous way back when.”Ian said, sounding dreamy as he climbed into bed.</p><p> </p><p>“To you maybe, but I planned that shit.” Mickey replied.It had been a trial and error thing, learning how to do it right since porn was his teacher and most of it skipped right to the fucking part.Lucky for both of them he had largely figured out the the lube situation and importance of timing to avoid a literal shit show before he and Ian hooked up.The dildo he’d had back then hadn’t been nearly as big as Ian though so the loosening up aspect to avoid being so raw he had to wait days to do it again had come after.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve done it.I know.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey bet Ian had done a bunch of research before he did it, chickened out several times, whined about doing it, been a total bitch about the initial penetration and then after that first stroke dragged against his prostate finally shut the fuck up and gave in to the pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>Seeing Ian writhe on his cock, yeah.He could definitely be down for that, but at the same time he thought it, Mickey knew that was for later.It would get them the intimacy both of them wanted, but not in a way either of them really liked it.It would be a crutch and Mickey could see it spiraling into something negative pretty quick.</p><p> </p><p>Shaking off that idea, Mickey went back to the discussion at hand.“So you know what the next steps are.I’m gonna work on doing all the things I have to do to be ready for you like I use to and once it’s okay when I do it, you’re gonna do it until being touched like that is okay.Then we get your dick back in me and boom, we’re back to normal.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.”Ian agreed.“Simple.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey glared at him, not appreciating the attempt at humor.“But to do what I need to do, you have to let me be uncomfortable.You gotta let me untangle the good stuff from the bad stuff while it’s happening.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mickey...”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s why we have a safe word.”Mickey cut off whatever protest Ian might make.“You have to trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do trust you.”Ian replied, but Mickey could see the doubt in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The next morning was warm and sunny with little puffy clouds floating over the Cancun skyline.</p><p> </p><p>Ian was on a lounge chair sipping a mimosa watching the world go by because this was how Mickey wanted to spend their last day in Mexico.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was up at the cabana ordering them brunch because they had gotten up so late. </p><p> </p><p>Ian predicted Mickey would get more eggs benedict. Ian had requested something sweet this morning.Whatever he got was up to Mickey and would be a surprise.</p><p> </p><p>Thinking about surprises, Mickey had been full of them this weekend.</p><p> </p><p>Like this morning when Mickey set out in public with only board shorts on.He had been grumpy and defensive, but he’d taken a deep breath and walked out muttering something about going home with a tan.</p><p> </p><p>He looked fantastic but Ian could see the nerves.Mickey’s shoulders were tight and he was swaggering around in a way Ian hadn’t seen since high school.</p><p> </p><p>He had shown Ian his body last night.He was showing the world today.Ian couldn’t have been more proud of him or more appreciative of the view.</p><p> </p><p>He turned to see if Mickey was on his way back and he was. </p><p> </p><p>Ian had always thought Mickey was beautiful, but today he was exceptionally so.His dark hair was slicked back though a couple strands had escaped and fallen into his eyes.He had on sunglasses and there was a thin gold chain around his neck with a small bar dangling from it that Ian knew had Yevgeny’s name and birthday on it. He was wearing black board shorts and nothing else so Ian, and everyone else, could admire sturdy limbs and a hard earned six pack.The phoenix tattoo was on full display and it was a true work of art, readable even from a distance. </p><p> </p><p>“Quit fucking leering at me.”Mickey said as he took his seat on the lounge chair next to Ian.</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes.“Remember when you gave me shit about our fan club?”</p><p> </p><p>“So?”Mickey snapped back, standing up to adjust the umbrella to give himself more sun.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you seen yours?”Ian asked gesturing towards a new group of much younger women who were blatantly staring at them.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey turned to look and snorted.“Fuck off.”</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t clear who Mickey was directing that at, but it didn’t really matter.The girls made their approach, selecting several lounge chairs close by.One of them noticed Ian watching and tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder before making a show of stripping down to her bikini.</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s face broke into a bemused smile.Sometimes he almost felt bad for them.Still, he wanted to make it clear they were gay to nip the flirting in the bud.Loudly, he announced, “My <em>boyfriend</em> is hot AF and I am <em>living</em> for it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, you sound so gay right now.”Mickey deflected, glancing around looking for judgement.</p><p> </p><p>Gay was exactly the point Ian was trying to make.“And?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a dick.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian was saved from having to respond by a server bringing them their breakfast.Mickey had gotten him the mango crepes and, as Ian predicted, eggs benedict for himself.Mickey dug right in.Ian took his time, distracted by watching Mickey’s muscles move in day light. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey glance up at him, eyebrows arched. “You gonna eat that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian nodded, putting a large forkful of mango crepe in his mouth. It was delicious.</p><p> </p><p>“Quit fucking staring at me.”Mickey snapped, glaring at him as he put his plate down.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t help it.You look great.” </p><p> </p><p>“Whatever.”Mickey said, crouched over with his elbows on his knees like he was hiding.</p><p> </p><p>Ian tore his eyes away and forced his gaze out toward the turquoise water and Cancun beyond.This had been an almost perfect trip and he hated that it was about to end.“I cannot believe we have to go home tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Mickey agreed, adjusting his sunglasses.After a moment, he leaned back into the lounge chair, both hands on his stomach.He looked so uncomfortable Ian almost offered him the shirt he had in his bag just in case, but then Mickey pulled his hands off his belly and folded his arms behind his head.The false bravado was evident to Ian, but he chose to ignore it.This was Mickey’s battle and as the smaller man had said the night before, Ian had to get used to letting him be uncomfortable.If it got to be too much, he had to trust Mickey would tell him.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess we gotta go back up to Playa del Norte, finish buying shit for everyone.”Mickey said, breaking the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“We do.”Ian agreed.He had been honest when he said he wanted to just spend their last day here in bed with the windows open eating room service, but that was not what Mickey wanted.Mickey wanted to hang out on the beach and now he wanted to go shopping. </p><p> </p><p>So be it.</p><p> </p><p>“Really just booze and something for the kids.”Mickey mused aloud.</p><p> </p><p>“I already bought a bunch of tequila, remember?”Ian reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>“So just the kids then.Oh, and that place with the vanilla.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep.”Ian smiled.It amused him Mickey was convinced vanilla was sort of like wine.He insisted there were different kinds with different flavors.Ian couldn’t tell the difference, but he wasn’t going to argue about it.He stood up and stretched.“I’m gonna go get another round of mimosas.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey glanced up at him.“Should you be drinking so much?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes.Mickey had been worrying about his alcohol consumption all weekend which was equal parts annoying and sweet.Ian had a lot of practice policing himself and did not need assistance, but rather than get mad, he said, “Let me rephrase.I’m going to go get <em>you</em> another mimosa and some OJ for myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not trying to nag.”Mickey replied with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”Ian leaned over and kissed the top of Mickey’s head.“You love me and you worry.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian used Mickey’s chest to lever himself back up which got his arm slapped.He flipped Mickey the bird as he walked away toward the cabana. </p><p> </p><p>The chef/owner was also at the bar.Ian walked up to him and clapped him on the back.“Hey, Andres.How are you, man?”</p><p> </p><p>“Very good.”Andres replied with a smile.His dark tanned skin crinkling around his eyes.“You will leave tomorrow, no?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Ian nodded.“Thanks for letting Mickey hang out in the kitchen yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>Andres shook his head.“If ever he wants to escape to the islands, he can come work for me any time.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian chuckled.“I think I’ll keep him, thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Andres shrugged.“He is a diamond in the rough and already has the attitude of a chef.”</p><p> </p><p>“And the mouth.”Ian replied with a smirk.Gods knew Mickey had all the snark and sarcasm stereotypically expected of chefs.Sometimes Ian thought it would be the best profession for Mickey since he wouldn't have to change a single thing about himself to succeed at it.Other times he was glad Mickey had a job that was forcing him to learn to temper his words.</p><p> </p><p>“Is he alright?”Andres asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” Ian asked turning to look behind him.Mickey was sitting on the edge of a lounge chair, back rigid, every muscle coiled like he was about to spring out of his seat and make a run for it.Ian had seen this enough times before to know what it was.He just didn’t know what was causing it. “Oh shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian took off at a trot towards Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>The closer he got, the more worried he became.Mickey’s arm was dangling by his side, hand open.It was as if his arm had been paralyzed as it was the only part of Mickey that wasn’t tensed. </p><p> </p><p>Whatever had happened in the minutes he had been at the cabana was bad.Panic attack inducing bad.As he got within arms length of the brunette he quietly asked, “Mickey?You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey didn’t say anything.He didn’t move.</p><p> </p><p>Ian could hear Mandy yelling from the phone Mickey had dropped in the sand.He bent down and picked it up.“Mandy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, Ian.He got out.They fucking let him out!”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, we’re on day 4 of the Biden presidency.  So far his scandals are a Pelaton bike and a Rolex from the crowd who worshiped an idiot with a golden toilet, but okay.  Whatever.</p><p>We’re not out of the woods yet.  We still have to ensure we hold the insurrectionists, their ringleaders, and those who incited them to account.  We still have to put some teeth in our institutional norms.</p><p>Failure to do so will roll out a red carpet for the next far smarter and more charismatic would-be dictator. </p><p>So far it looks like we’re doing that, so I am feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while.</p><p>Anyway, hope everyone is well. </p><p>FYI: I’m still not happy with the next bit so edits and rewrites could take a little longer than my usual week. My apologies in advance for leaving this where I’ve left it.  </p><p>Thank you for sticking with me this far.  I really appreciate the comments and kudos.  I enjoy the discussions we sometimes have in the comments too.  It’s a big world out there and getting to hear alternative perspectives is awesome.  Thank you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Compassionate release</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What?”Ian exclaimed, not sure he was understanding, <em>hoping</em> he wasn’t understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“Fucking compassionate leave.What does that even mean?This is <em>so</em> bad!”Mandy said, her words rushed.He could hear the fear in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was sitting next to him, unmoving and coiled like a tight spring.Ian wished Mandy had called him first rather than Mickey, but there wasn’t time for that now.Right now what he needed were facts starting with how long Terry had been out.“When?”</p><p> </p><p>“He could be anywhere by now.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian took a deep breath and tried again.“When?”</p><p> </p><p>“Friday!”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, how do you know he’s out?”Ian asked, because he had people who were supposed to be watching the parole board and he had not been alerted. </p><p> </p><p>“One of the cousins told Iggy.”Mandy said, heaving her own deep breath and sounding a little calmer when she said, “He’s super pissed about the house.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can imagine.”Like the Gallaghers, the Milkoviches didn’t have much, but what they did have had been built around the house on Trumbull Ave.It had been in the family for three generations and was the crowning achievement for the immigrants from Ukraine who had built it. </p><p> </p><p>Losing the house was a huge deal. </p><p> </p><p>Back when they all lived in Chicago, it had been something all the Milkovich siblings contributed to but attrition in the ranks had left Iggy holding the bag.All three of the eldest siblings were long gone, either locked up or, in the case of Joey, missing.Mandy had run away to find a better life and Mickey, the one who usually carried everything when Terry was locked up, had been locked up himself.  Iggy couldn’t keep up with the payments by himself.</p><p> </p><p>None of that would matter to Terry though and Iggy has said a few times how much he feared the wrath of his father when he found out the house had been repossessed. </p><p> </p><p>“Is Mickey okay?”Mandy asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Um,” Ian glanced down at him.Mickey was very much not okay and it was starting to draw attention.Ian glared at the group of girls who had been flirting with them earlier.He did not have the patience for interference right now.Mickey needed calm and space and time to work through whatever was happening in his head.The wrong move would set him off like a powder keg.“He will be.”</p><p> </p><p>“At least you guys are safe down there.”Mandy said. </p><p> </p><p>She was right. </p><p> </p><p>Terry had only been out for three days.He might have found out they were in Mexico, but he had no idea where.None of their family did, unless Mickey had told someone.Ian sure hadn’t.It might be safer to just stay put.“Are you okay?” </p><p> </p><p>“I just wish I knew where he is, you know?”Mandy answered. “I mean, everyone knows we’re in New York.Your house is historic.It would take maybe 10 seconds to Google it.I’m all over social media.He can find us.  Easy.”</p><p> </p><p>There were a lot of potential targets for Terry’s rage living in New York.Ian figured the main target would be Mickey, but Iggy had lost the house and Mandy had become successful and changed her name.Svetlana was currently watching the kids and anyone in their circle was a potential pressure point.“Does Svet know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Iggy called her.” </p><p> </p><p>“Does my family know?”Ian asked, because at the end of the day, in Terry’s opinion all of this was his fault. Terry thought he had turned Mickey gay.He had helped Mandy create her new life.That had enabled Iggy to also free himself.</p><p> </p><p>Ian would definitely be a high priority target if Terry could get to him and his family was still in Chicago.Terry could easily use them as leverage to get Ian (and probably Mickey) back in the Southside where he would think he had a tactical advantage.</p><p> </p><p>“Iggy called Fiona too. He was willing to talk to the entire universe if it meant avoiding having to tell Mickey, fucking pussy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Ian nodded, wishing again Mandy had called him instead of Mickey, but he could be mad about that later.Right now, he needed to focus.Fiona wasn’t stupid and Svetlana had helped develop the security plan created for this moment.She would have initiated it the moment she heard. </p><p> </p><p>His phone buzzed to alert him to another call, but he ignored it, more focused on Mandy and the security plan which had been designed to include possible weak points like his family, significant others, jobs, and schools.“What did Svetlana tell you to do?”</p><p> </p><p>“She said to wait for the security people to come get me.”Mandy said, sounding calmer.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.Good.”Ian said.The plan had been initiated.“They’ll take you to my house.It locks down like Fort Knox.Take what’s his name with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh god.I didn’t even think about Trent.Or Chelsey.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s okay.It’s okay.We all knew h’ed get out eventually.”Ian didn’t think Trent or Chelsey would be high on Terry’s priority list if he noticed them at all, but the plan had been designed to include Mandy and amended to include Iggy.Anyone associated with them was potential leverage.Leaving loved ones vulnerable was an unacceptable risk.“Remember the Frank protocol?There’s a Terry protocol, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“But he’ll know where your house is.”Mandy protested and Ian wished maybe he had been more private about the house he had restored, but it was too late to regret that now.</p><p> </p><p>One the bright side, there were cameras all over the outside of the house and in-person surveillance was being set up. The house itself could lock down like the entire thing was a safe room.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  It was built to withstand a siege.  </span>They would be okay once they were inside. “Which means we’ll know if he goes there. And bonus: he can’t get in.” </p><p> </p><p>“Frank did.”Mandy immediately reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>“The Terry protocol has some additional features.”One faulty window wasn’t enough to allow for a break in.“Please just trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ian...”</p><p> </p><p>“Just trust me.I’ll call you back.”Ian said, hanging up because his phone was buzzing again. </p><p> </p><p>He answered it just as the flirty blonde in the bikini touched his shoulder.“Is he okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Just got some bad news.We’re fine.”Ian snapped as a voice on the phone started to introduce himself. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m a counselor.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good for you.”Ian replied, the voice on the phones was still talking. </p><p> </p><p>He was about to tell her to fuck off when she reached out an put a hand on Mickey’s shoulder like she intended to comfort him.“Maybe I can help.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s reaction was immediate.He sprang up, sent a flailing fist in the girl’s direction which she barely managed to dodge and then took off sprinting down the beach like the devil himself was chasing him.</p><p> </p><p>“God damn it.”Ian muttered shoving his phone in his pocket and taking off after him.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Mickey?You with me?”</p><p> </p><p>That was Ian’s voice. </p><p> </p><p>“I need you to rein it in and focus if you can.”</p><p> </p><p>He was having a panic attack.Mickey took a deep breath and then another, trying to get hold of himself.His breathing was too fast and his heart was going a mile a minute.He had a hand between his legs clutching at his ass.</p><p> </p><p>He was simultaneously terrified and consumed by a weirdly detached feeling that reminded him of a gazelle caught in a lion’s jaws.The other lions were ripping him apart, but in his shock he couldn’t really feel it, like the pain in his side right now.The one that lived in his head.It was there, but it wasn’t.He felt disembodied.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey focused on regaining control of his limbs, starting with the hand between his legs.He looked down at it, the sand he was sitting in wasn’t red.He wasn’t bleeding out.He let go and ran that shaky hand through his hair pushing it out of his face.</p><p> </p><p>Looking around, he realized he had run all the way to Playa del Norte.No wonder his joints ached.</p><p> </p><p>Ian sat down next to him, close but not touching, and Mickey scrunched his toes into the sand trying to ground himself in the sensation. </p><p> </p><p>“I know you’re freaking out, but everyone is safe.Yev, Svet, Frannie, they made it to the house, no issues.Mandy and her boyfriend just got there and Iggy and Chelsey are on their way.My family is okay too.Everyone is safe.”Ian said.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.“No one’s safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“The house is a fucking fortress.The police are aware we’ve been threatened...” Ian trailed off.Mickey didn’t even have to tell him how stupid that was. The redhead picked back up saying, “And between the insurance people and the private security I hired, he will be found and dealt with.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t understand.”Mickey sighed.Private security was nice and all, but Terry had been doing shit like this his entire life.He was relentless and he wouldn’t come alone.He would come with a pack of like minded Milkoviches and hangers on. </p><p> </p><p>Terry would send minions first.They would be faces the security people wouldn't know.Mickey probably wouldn’t know them either.They would learn his routine, where he worked, who he saw, who he cared about and once they knew where Mickey was most vulnerable Terry would strike.</p><p> </p><p>“What don’t I understand?That he’s dangerous?That he wants to hurt you?That he’ll go through the people you love to do it?” Ian questioned. “Everyone has security on them already and I’ve got people figuring out how he got out without us knowing too.”</p><p> </p><p>Trying to explain was too hard.He was too tired for this shit and at the same time wound tighter than he had ever been in his life.</p><p> </p><p>“My question to you is, do you want to stay here or do you want to go home?”</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of fucking question is that?My kids are at home.”Mickey snapped, pushing himself up from the palm tree he had been propped up against.<em>He</em> might be safer in Mexico, but that just put everyone else at higher risk.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what I thought.The security company has a boat waiting to take us to the airport.There’s a jet on standby.”Ian said, also getting to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Like a Bond movie or some shit.”Mickey muttered, almost amused by the overkill. His father was many things, a Bond villain not among them, but the man loomed larger than life in Mickey’s fears.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I guess so.Call me crazy, but money is meaningless if it can’t keep the people I love safe.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sighed.He’d twisted his bum ankle but not so bad he couldn’t walk on it.His neck was tight and he felt like his shoulders were up by his ears. He tried to roll them down to release some of the tension.</p><p> </p><p>The adrenaline high that had run him this far was fading fast and the feeling of resignation deepened.</p><p> </p><p>Ian gestured down the beach toward the south where their hotel was.“Let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Getting Mickey onto the boat had been surprisingly easy.The smaller man allowed himself to be led onboard like a lamb to the slaughter. </p><p> </p><p>Once aboard Mickey just stared out at the water, not seeing it.He was entirely silent, not so much as a sigh escaped him.</p><p> </p><p>It was awkward and frightening and Ian hated it.</p><p> </p><p>They got to the airport and the spy movie ridiculousness of the whole thing smacked Ian in the face. Men in black suits guarded them as they got out of the car and rushed them onto a jet with theengines already running.</p><p> </p><p>It was one of the dumber things Ian could remember doing.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  Terry wasn’t a spy master. He was just a ham handed bully who was pissed off his son had defied him and continued to do so. </span></p><p> </p><p>Ian was giving the man far more credit than he deserved, but one look at Mickey was enough to make him not care about the expense or the ridiculousness.Mickey did not feel safe, would not feel safe, until he knew where his father was and probably not even then.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey took a seat by the window and stared out of it.His silence continued. </p><p> </p><p>It killed him to see Mickey so upset he was almost frozen.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.  They were supposed to be alerted if Terry came up for parole, but now the asshole had a three day head start.  How had they not been alerted?Ian already had queries out to his people, but the person Mickey had relied on to let him know when Terry was getting out was Dr. Mohammed. </p><p> </p><p>Ian had been trying to resist the urge to call him, but once in the air he gave in.  </p><p> </p><p>“Dr. Mo, hello.This is Ian.Ian Gallagher.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Ian.You sound stressed.”Dr. Mohammed answered, immediately reading his tone and probably the fact he had called on a Sunday.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had planned an indirect approach.When he was angry, he found it a better way to get people to tell him what he wanted to know.In their haste to figure out why he was mad and defend themselves, they tended to flail around and accidentally rat themselves out. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> That had been the plan, but </span>what came out was, “Terry got out.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”Dr. Mohammed exclaimed sounding genuinely surprised.</p><p> </p><p>“They let him out on Friday.We found out because Iggy still talks to the cousins.” Ian told him, trying and failing to hide the accusation buried in his words. </p><p> </p><p>Unable to talk to Mickey because he didn't want to add to the smaller man’s stress and unable to contain his need to <em>do</em> something, he had called Mandy back when they were on the boat and interrogated her until he felt he knew everything she knew.Then he had called Iggy and done the same thing.Now he was doing it to Mickey’s shrink.</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”Dr. Mohammed said.Then he asked the million dollar question.“How is Mickey?”</p><p> </p><p>“Completely freaked out.”Ian replied, looking over at the brunette who had not moved a muscle.It infuriated him to see Mickey so upset he was nearly catatonic, but there was nothing he could do about it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> He felt helpless and he <em>hated</em> it.</span></p><p> </p><p>“I can imagine.”Dr. Mohammed said. </p><p> </p><p>Ian figured the shrink probably knew as much or more about Terry Milkovich than he did.He had known Terry in prison, seen first hand wait the old bastard was capable of.He was intimately familiar with what the man had done to his son.</p><p>He had guided Mickey through the roughest time of his life and Ian knew this was one of the most important relationships Mickey had.Taking out his rage on this man was counter productive.Besides, it was clear as daylight the doctor cared about Mickey.Ian could hear it in his voice when he asked, “What are your plans?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re on a plane back to New York.All the New York family is already at my house.My family in Chicago is aware.I’ve got private security on it, but we don’t know where he is yet.”Ian growled.</p><p> </p><p>“The cousins do not know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Or won’t say.All they told Iggy was that he tried to go home, but the house has been repossessed and torn down.New place is already going up.Apparently they were all too afraid to tell him so it was a surprise and he’s super pissed.He stayed at his brother Tony’s overnight and then they say they don’t know where he went after that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.” Dr. Mohammed said before asking, “You are assuming he is coming to New York to exact his revenge?”</p><p> </p><p>“You met him.What do you think he’s doing?”Ian retorted.  Terry held grudges.  Long before Ian and Mickey got together he knew, just like everyone else on the Southside, that Terry Milkovich was not someone to mess with.  He paid back any and all slights with violence so bad, his reputation preceded him wherever he went.  Kids learned young to clear of him and the rest of the Milkovich mob.  Mickey didn’t have that luxury.  This was a life and death blood match between father and son.</p><p> </p><p>“You said they let him out.Do you know why?”  Dr. Mohammed asked, dragging Ian back into the present.</p><p> </p><p>“Compassionate leave is what they said.”Ian replied, wondering why all of this seemed to be news to the older man who had promised he had eyes on Terry and would warn them if he was being considered for release.</p><p> </p><p>“That explains the suddenness of his release.It means he has a medical condition that is either too expensive for the state to be willing to treat or so far advanced it is terminal.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or he lied and convinced them he’s sick.”Ian was struck with a vicious hope while acutely aware Terry had a near preternatural ability to lie his way out of prison.</p><p> </p><p>“It is not easy to fake a deadly disease.” Dr. Mohammed disagreed.Then he added, “I will see what I can find out.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’ll be coming for Mickey or whoever he has to hurt to get to Mickey.”Ian voiced his fear.It would not be a cleverly planned attack like out of a spy movie.It would be opportunistic and brutal.</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s whole goal was to deny him the opportunity.</p><p> </p><p>“He could just as easily be a patient at a Chicago area hospital.”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, but Ian didn’t think so.He would tell the security team so they could canvas Chicago hospitals, but it made little difference.It was just another place to look for him.“How come you didn’t know he was being released? Mickey thought you were keeping tabs on him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was.I am.I am just as surprised by this news as you are.”Dr. Mohammed said, sounding sincere.Then he finally circled the conversation around to the reason they knew each other.“How is Mickey?”</p><p> </p><p>“Had another panic attack.Since then he’s been pretty listless, you know?Not talking, just staring out the window.Hasn’t moved since we took off.”Ian replied.Usually when Mickey had a panic attack, he would sleep for hours afterward.Ian didn’t know what to make of the what he was seeing now.</p><p> </p><p>“This was his greatest fear.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> Ian agreed.  Terry haunted everything Mickey did.  Mickey’s every decision included an analysis of what Terry would think.  Sometimes he shared those thoughts out loud.  Most of the time he didn’t, but Ian could still see it.  It had been evident since they were kids, but since his exoneration rather than avoid something that would piss off his pops, Mickey would shrug off those fears and do as <em>he</em> pleased.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">Mickey was dealing with the abuse, working his way through the trauma and becoming his own man.  It was the same for Mandy and Iggy.  All of them had been building their own lives, but they were fragile.   And now, like a bull in a china shop, Terry had plunged back into their lives.  He would destroy it all because he was a vindictive son of a bitch.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">That was why this panic attack was different.  The threat wasn’t in the past or contained somewhere.  It was on the loose and looking to destroy.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>“May I speak with him?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s super pissed at you right now.He thought you’d warn him.”Ian was inferring this frompast experience in which a quiet Mickey was a dangerously angry Mickey.</p><p> </p><p>“Had I known, I would have.”Dr. Mohammed defended himself. “If he does not want to talk to me, that is his prerogative.However, you should be aware this is a very dangerous time for him.I would not put it past him to do something rash.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been thinking about that.He tends to go on offense when he’s scared, but this is Terry.I’m worried he could hurt himself instead.”Ian said.He could protect Mickey from Terry.He could not protect Mickey from himself.</p><p> </p><p>“That is a valid concern.”</p><p> </p><p>“I really wanted you to tell me I was over reacting.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am certain you did.However, you are not alone in this.You have resources. You have a house full of family.Engage them in helping you keep Mickey safe.Your house is automated.Use those tools to look out for him.”Dr. Mohammed said, reminding Ian he wasn’t alone in his desire to protect Mickey and he did have options most people didn't. “Discovering where Terry is and keeping him under surveillance will help.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then all I’ll have to worry about is Mickey working up the nerve to go do something stupid.”Because that was his other big fear.Mickey had a lot to lose now, things he had never dreamed of having.  He could be just as hot headed as his father and just as impetuous - not that Ian would ever say that out loud.  Mickey had learned a lot of new coping mechanisms and decision making skills, but he was terrified and the old Southside playbook was instinctive.  </p><p> </p><p>“I will be making a house call tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian immediately demurred. “He’s not in the mood, trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Better he take out his anger and fear in a safe place than, as you say, do something stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus.”Ian sighed.Wondering if the doctor knew Mickey had a mean left hook and didn’t fight fair.“I’ll send security to get you.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you think that is necessary.”Dr. Mohammed agreed amiably.“In the meantime, I will make some calls to find out what is going on and why there was no notification.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Okay.”Ian agreed, because he didn’t think Dr. Mohammed would be deterred from coming over no matter what he said.“Thanks, Doc.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Mickey thought it was ridiculous when men in black suits met them at the tarmac at LaGuardia and escorted them into a black Suburban.Terry wasn’t lurking around the airport, waiting for him.</p><p> </p><p>He was starting to come out of the fog of indifferent surrender, though it was happening in fits and bursts.  The irrational anger crashing in when the apathetic fog lifted was almost painful.One minute he was grateful Ian was taking charge and making everyone safe and the next he was livid at the redhead for not consulting him first.It was stupid and counter productive.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  He wasn’t angry at Ian, not really.  He was just the easiest target.</span></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t want to hurt the man who had literally plunged them into a into a real life spy movie just to keep him safe, because if that wasn’t love, he wasn’t sure what else qualified.</p><p> </p><p>The ride to the house was silent.  Mickey didn’t want to talk, afraid something awful would slip out.  Ian seemed okay with that, fiddling with his phone or staring out the window until they got home.</p><p> </p><p>It was a production getting from the SUV to the front door, a scrum of men in suits surrounding them and guiding them into the house.</p><p> </p><p>Ian stayed behind on the first floor to talk to the men in black, but Mickey immediately climbed the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>He should probably go to his room, lock the door and take some more Ativan, but when he cleared the landing on the second floor he saw a man he didn’t know sitting at one of his kitchen stools.</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s this guy?”Mickey snapped, moving into his kitchen, feeling spring loaded and ready to fight.</p><p> </p><p>“This is Trent, my boyfriend.”Mandy replied, putting her arm through the stranger’s arm, defensive and just as ready to throw down.Then the fire went out of her eyes and she asked, “Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do I <em>look</em> okay?”Mickey retorted, deciding he didn’t give a shit about his sister’s fuck buddy.Fuck that guy.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”Mandy said, the look of concern on her face almost insulting in it’s sincerity.</p><p> </p><p>“Then don’t ask stupid fucking questions.”Mickey snapped, heading for the stairs and the relative safety of his room.  He needed to be alone.</p><p> </p><p>Before he got to the landing Yevgeny came running down and slammed into him.“Papa!” </p><p> </p><p>Every instinct in Mickey’s body screamed to shove the unwanted, unexpected touch away from him, but this was his kid and he was able to stop himself this time.Mickey took a deep breath and let Yevgeny hug him. His skin was crawling, his heart was pounding and he was struggling to hang on to the here and now.  </p><p> </p><p>“Papa?”Yevgeny looked up at him and the uncertainty in the little boy’s gaze made Mickey aware he had not returned his child’s hug. </p><p> </p><p>He put his hands on his son’s shoulders and squeezed, gently pushing the little boy away from him as he did so.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  The moment his son wasn’t touching him anymore the rising panic ebbed enough for him to attempt civility.  </span>“Hey, kid.You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you have fun on your vacation?”Yevgeny asked, awkwardly attempting small talk.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”It had been probably the best weekend of his life, but it was over now.It almost felt like it had never happened.</p><p> </p><p>“Papa?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”Mickey asked, forcing himself to focus on his son.The kid deserved his attention.</p><p> </p><p>Huge blue eyes looked up at him, “Are you mad at me?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?No.I’m not mad, bud.I’m just having a really bad day.It’s not your fault.”Mickey said, wishing at some point on the boat, plane or car ride he had spent some time thinking about how to deal with the kids.They didn’t deserve to feel like they had to walk on eggshells around him.  He knew what that felt like and did not want his children to feel the same fear he ha as a child.  Yevgeny wasn’t responsible for his moods.Neither was the little girl who was clinging to the banister watching him.“Frannie?I’m not mad at you either.”</p><p> </p><p>“Breathe.”Svetlana said, walking up to him shooing Yevgeny and Frannie into the living room.“We are safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t understand.”Mickey snarled, instantly wishing he could change his tone.He wasn’t mad at her.He wasn’t mad at any of them.None of this was their fault.He was just...he needed some space.</p><p> </p><p>“Do I not?”Svetlana arched an eyebrow at him.Then she turned to Ian who had just crested the stairs. “Lock down now, carrot boy.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian nodded.“Mildred, initiate Terry protocol.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey heard the fire doors close and then there was a metallic grinding noise before a loud silence settled over the house. </p><p> </p><p>Ian immediately started explaining. “Okay, so, the security measures currently in place are as follows: we have 24 hour security people in the house, outside the house and on selected people and locations that have importance to us.The security people are working out of the basement apartment but have access to the house.Pretty much just stay out of their way and they’ll leave you alone.</p><p> </p><p>The Terry protocol is more robust than the Frank protocol.That grinding sound you heard was the hurricane shutters closing on the basement windows and doors and the courtyard windows.The only way in or out now is the front door and that’s covered by Mildred and the security guys.Just like at parties, the fire doors on all floors are locked to people Mildred doesn't recognize.If one of you is with someone she doesn’t recognize, the doors won’t open.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian inhaled a deep breath and continued, “Since Terry is big on guns, you should know all the windows are ballistic glass and the shutters are steal and the runners for them are built into the walls so it’s harder to pry them open. If you want I can close the shutters on all six floors.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow.”Someone muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.So I might have been manic and worried about the apocalypse when we designed the security system.”Ian said, with a sheepishly defiant smile.“I admit, I went way, way overboard.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ethan and friends, they take advantage of mania and talk him into all these things.” Svetlana weighed in, with a disapproving smile. </p><p> </p><p>“And yet, today, who’s grateful this house could withstand a zombie horde?”Ian asked, raising his hand and looking around the group like they should too.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s response was a strange combination of relief, anger that Ian had been taken advantage of and worry because Ian seemed a little too flippant.Please not now.Please. </p><p> </p><p>“What about the dog?”Mickey asked, trying to change the subject. Scraggles was jumping around his shins and it was taking effort to not kick the mutt away from him.</p><p> </p><p>“Dogs. Plural.”Chelsey said, as a black and silver schnauzer and a golden cocker spaniel trotted down the stairs ahead of her and Iggy.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”Mickey muttered wondering how having pets would fuck all of this up. They had to go outside...or shit on super expensive antique herringbone hardwood floors.He could not believe he was worrying about floors but his mind was scattering into weird places. </p><p> </p><p>“Thought of that.”Ian said, making a motion for everyone to follow him back down the stairs.“The first floor fire door will open for the dogs as long as there isn’t an unknown person on either side.The doggie door has been deemed too small for an adult to climb through, however, it will also only open if there is a dog present and there are no unknown people near the door or in the courtyard. Come on, I’ll show you.”</p><p> </p><p>As the group followed Ian down to the first floor, Svetlana stepped up to Mickey’s side quietly saying, “You will calm down now.You frighten children.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey glared at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Security is good.”She said. </p><p> </p><p>“Apparently.”Mickey agreed, though he wanted to walk the floors and make sure everything was functioning properly.He remembered the broken window Frank had exploited to break in back at Christmas.</p><p> </p><p>“I will make dinner.”Svetlana announced.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, we were almost out of everything before we left.”Mickey said, wondering how shopping and deliveries worked in this weird security world they were suddenly living in. </p><p> </p><p>“I think of this.We received grocery delivery earlier.”Svetlana told him, moving into his kitchen as if she owned the place. </p><p> </p><p>He wanted to chide her for taking the risk, kick himself for being so paranoid and hug her for thinking of replenishing the pantry.Out loud he said, “Sometimes I can’t believe I used to hate you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nor I you.”She smiled at him and shooed him toward the stairs.“Go rest.We will be okay.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for missing last week - I just didn’t like this chapter or the next few that deal with Terry.  I’m still not happy so I may go back and revise, but figured for now, it’s good enough.</p><p>Hope everyone is doing well.  Thanks for reading!</p><p>Oh, and Happy Second Impeachment week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Lock Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How are you?”Fiona asked as soon as she picked up.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine.”Ian lied.He was not fine, but he was way better than Mickey so...yeah, fine.</p><p> </p><p>“How’s Mickey?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian settled back into his chair in his office.The atmosphere in the house was tense and he had decided to escape to his office for a little while, just to catch his breath and think for a moment. </p><p> </p><p>“Less fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had gone to their room, popped a couple Ativan and then returned to the kitchen where he started aggressively making bread.Ian assumed it would be a fuck ton of bread.</p><p> </p><p>It was good that Mickey had seemed to wake up from the terrible nothingness of the journey home, but at the same time it would be far easier for the rest of the house if he would just go to bed.It was clear he was far from okay and everyone, even the dogs, was trying to avoid him. Svetlana, who was making dinner, was the only one brave enough to be in the same room with him.</p><p> </p><p>“I know Terry’s a royal douche bag, but isn’t this a little much?”She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”Ian immediately disagreed.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  Iggy had called Fiona to tell her Terry was out.  Ian had texted her that he was sending security to the house.  Was it </span>over the top?Yes.More than was necessary?Probably.But he didn’t care.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  He needed Mickey to be absolutely sure there were no loose ends or unprotected weak spots. </span></p><p> </p><p>Impetuous and suffering from PTSD with his biggest trigger pulled, Ian was very afraid of what Mickey might do.He knew there was a huge gun safe in the sub basement. He also knew Mickey knew with his mental health issues Ian wasn’t allowed to have firearms.  This was probably why it was in the lower basement around a corner where no one was likely to find it.It had a biometric lock.He had no idea what sort of arsenal Mickey had amassed in there and he didn’t want to find out. </p><p> </p><p>Ian’s biggest fear now was that Mickey would reach a point where he said fuck it and went out into the streets armed like Rambo looking for a kill or be killed showdown with his father.</p><p> </p><p>To avoid that, Mickey needed to know he was safe and the people he loved were safe.The people his loved ones loved also needed to be safe.It was all Ian could think to do to get Mickey through this.If the way he was making that happen looked crazy to other people, fuck them.“He hates us, Fiona.Straight up hates us.”</p><p> </p><p>“I heard he’s sick though.That’s why they let him out.”She replied, still not sounding as concerned as he wanted her to sound.</p><p> </p><p>“All I hear when you say that is he has nothing left to lose.” </p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure you’re okay?”She asked in a tone Ian was all too familiar with.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m taking my fucking pills.”Ian snapped.She thought he was over reacting, possibly manic, but Terry could be anywhere getting ready to go on a scorched earth campaign against them.</p><p> </p><p>“There are guys with guns in a car in front of the house.There are more guys with guns loitering in the alley.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m aware.”Ian replied.They were there because he sent them.He didn’t know what Terry would do or who he would use to get to him or Mickey. </p><p> </p><p>“Lip says he’s being followed.”She said in a chastening tone.</p><p> </p><p>“He is being followed.”Ian agreed.“All of you are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you think this is overkill?” Fiona asked, clearly not happy. “I mean, Terry is a violent asshole, but...”</p><p> </p><p>Ian cut her off, unable to stand it.“He almost killed Mickey in prison.Sent him to the hospital four times, Fi. It was really bad, but none of it stopped Mickey.He’s overcome so much, but now, though...”</p><p> </p><p>“Losing the people he loves would gut him.”Fiona finished for him sounding a little more understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.”Ian confirmed, knowing if Fiona knew what Terry had done to Mickey she would not be questioning him.She would understand that Terry would be on a mission to exact his final pound of flesh.What he had already done to Mickey proved how far he was willing to go to punish his son for being gay.And it failed.They were back together, battered and bruised, but healing. There was no way Terry would just let it go.No way.</p><p> </p><p>“So are you saying he loves us?”Fiona teased.</p><p> </p><p>“Not sure I’d go that far, but it would kill <em>me</em> if something happened to you guys because Terry hates our gayness.”Ian replied honestly.He would not put it past Terry to exact his revenge by harming the people closest to them.Especially if he couldn’t get to his primary target. </p><p> </p><p>“So how long is this going to last?”She asked, giving in.</p><p> </p><p>“Until we know where he is and what he’s up to.”Once they had eyes on him, then Ian could breathe again. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Fiona said and he could hear the shrug in her voice.“If this is what you need, okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do.”Ian confirmed.He needed them to let him protect them even if they thought he was being crazy.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Love you too.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was getting late, not that Mickey cared.He was buzzing with anxiety and it seemed like there wasn't enough Ativan in the world to take the edge off. </p><p> </p><p>He knew the family was trying to stay out of his way while still being nearby, which was why most of them were in the living room pretending to watch a movie.It annoyed him, but at the same time, the thought of being alone...he couldn’t.Not right now. </p><p> </p><p>He had lost track of the batches of bread he had already made, but he’d made enough that the first batch had had time to rise and go in the oven.He was still making more and though he knew it as fucking nuts he needed something to do, something mindless, something <em>good</em>.</p><p> </p><p>No matter how hard he tried though, his brain just would not turn off.He would banish one possible hell scape from his mind only to have another pop up in its place. </p><p> </p><p>He kept telling himself it was highly unlikely Terry would have him raped again.That wasn’t how his pops worked.Terry was a bully.He upped the ante until he got the response he wanted.Other than murder there wasn’t much left...maybe forcing him to watch as Ian was subjected to the same...</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s hands clenched into fists, bread dough squeezing out in blobs through his fingers.Please god, no. </p><p> </p><p>He looked over at his ginger and almost choked on the fear of losing him. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had grown up in a cesspool of violence which had inured him against a lot of it.Experience bred familiarity and coping mechanisms, usually unhealthy ones, but they were better than nothing.Ian wasn’t like him though.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had grown up in a bubble of love that may not have been able to protect him from everything, but had given him a safe place to return to and heal.Mickey had never had that, not until now. </p><p> </p><p>It was a vulnerability.A thing he had to protect at all costs and something his father would intrinsically seek to destroy.</p><p> </p><p>He realized his fingernails were digging into his palms and looked down at his dough covered fists.They were white knuckled and shaking.It took effort to force them to unclench.</p><p> </p><p>He looked at the red half moons gouged into his palms and wondered how much more Ativan he could safely take before he overdosed. </p><p> </p><p>He looked at Ian again.Ian glanced up and their eyes met for a moment before Mickey looked away. </p><p> </p><p>What he had in this house, he would die for this.He would kill for it.He would endure all manner of horrors if it saved his family pain.</p><p> </p><p>Doubt followed.Dying he could do.He’d been dancing with death since forever, but he had never taken a life.He’d been give ample reason to and more than a few opportunities, but he’d never pulled the trigger.Maybe because if the choice was to take a life or lose his own, he knew he as willing to die.He was not afraid of death though the manner in which it happened...he worried about that some.</p><p> </p><p>And he had people to live for for now, people who needed him.His son would be fatherless.Ian, who had moved mountains to give them a second chance, would be devastated. </p><p> </p><p>Everyone else would probably get over it.He’d just be an emotional speed bump, felt for a moment and then forgotten.</p><p> </p><p>Mildred announced someone was at the door, snapping him out of his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>Ian, who had been hovering nearby for almost the entire day, popped up and ran down the stairs to do whatever Mildred needed him to do to open the door. </p><p> </p><p>He figured it was Dr. Mohammed who had insisted on coming over even though Ian had told him not to.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey listened to muffled voices getting louder as they walked up to his kitchen.He thought about taking the doctor up to his office, but that would be bad for the bread. </p><p> </p><p>Part of him needed to bleed out some of the gore choking him, part of him was so angry he felt incendiary and another more primal part wanted to curl up in the man’s arms and hide. </p><p> </p><p>The second he saw Dr. Mohammed, anger took over as the dominant emotion.Mickey snarled, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me he got out?”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed walked into the kitchen and took a seat on one of the kitchen stools, calm and placid as ever.“I did not know he was being released.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought you said you had people keeping an eye out.” Mickey growled, glaring at Ian and the people in the living room daring them to stay and listen to him getting his head shrunk.  They could finish their fucking movie in the media room on the sixth floor. </p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes with a small, tight smile as he turned and went upstairs.Dr. Mohammed nodded to Mandy and what his name as they went past.Then he refocused on Mickey.“I did.The decision to release him was sudden.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”Mickey asked, glaring at Iggy who was still on the couch.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps we can go to your office?”Dr. Mohammed suggested.</p><p> </p><p>“Iggy!”Mickey bellowed.“Read the goddamn room.Get the fuck out.”</p><p> </p><p>Iggy got up and yawned. </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to be such a dick.”He said as he walked by.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey flipped him the bird and then went back to kneading bread dough.</p><p> </p><p>Once the room was clear, Dr. Mohammed said, “He came into the infirmary with a cough and shortness of breath.He was taken to hospital where they did some tests and discovered he has stage four lung cancer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Mickey muttered, not sure he believed it.Terry Milkovich seemed indestructible.</p><p> </p><p>“It has metastasized.”Dr. Mohammed said with a confirming nod. </p><p> </p><p>“Peterson tell you this?”That was who Mickey assumed Dr. Mohammed had watching out for Terry.</p><p> </p><p>“No. Dr. Peterson has been in Hawaii for the past two weeks and is not due to return until Friday.” Dr. Mohammed said apologetically, like he knew how much Mickey had been relying on him and how hard he was taking the failure.“I called the warden who was happy to gossip about one of his least favorite inmates.”</p><p> </p><p>“So meta..met...that’s bad, right?”Mickey asked.He didn’t know much about cancer, but that sounded like some shit that was not good.</p><p> </p><p>“It means the cancer has spread.”Dr. Mohammed confirmed.“Stage four means it had spread throughout his body and infiltrated other organ systems.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s dying?”Mickey asked, hoping like hell that’s what it meant.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.He has less than six months to live.”</p><p> </p><p>The hope Mickey felt shriveled and died.“Six months may as well be a fucking eternity.”</p><p> </p><p>“It is like Frank.He is very sick.”Dr. Mohammed said, using the information Mickey had given him about Ian’s fucker of a father against him.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”That didn’t mean shit to Mickey since Frank had been scheming and mobile until the last few weeks of his life.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed nodded.“If I could make a suggestion?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”Mickey snapped. Usually he appreciated the rare suggestions his doctor offered him, but unless it was a foolproof murder plan, he didn't really want to hear it.</p><p> </p><p>“Put him in hospice, like you did with Frank.”</p><p> </p><p>“Make him comfortable until he kicks it?Fuck that.”Mickey said, slamming the heal of his hand into the bread dough.He was over working it, but could not care less if the crumb at the end was too tight.If he stopped he might lose it.</p><p> </p><p>“I do not suggest this for his comfort, but for your peace of mind.You will know where he is.You will know how he is.You will know when he dies.You will have control of his funeral and burial.”Dr. Mohammed ticked the reasons he thought hospice was a good idea off on his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Put like that, maybe controlling the circumstances of his father’s death might not be so bad, but there were other ways to do it.“Or I could kidnap him and torture him until he fucking dies.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what happens to your son if you do that?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing.Who would know?”</p><p> </p><p>“I would.Ian would.The people guarding you would.The police are involved also.Kidnap and torture may be what he deserves, but the consequences of such action are not what you deserve.”Dr. Mohammed reached across the island and put a hand on Mickey’s arm. “I do not want to see you return to prison.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck!”Mickey exclaimed, pulling his hand back, the simple touch more than he could bear.He had never been so angry he felt like crying, that was a chick thing, but he had to rub at his eyes with the back of his hand.</p><p> </p><p>He felt helpless and afraid, weak and back at square one.</p><p> </p><p>No. </p><p> </p><p>Fuck.</p><p> </p><p><em>No.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Terry was not going to be allowed to take this life from him.He had come so far, too far to let that asshole FUBAR his life.He was going to power his way through this somehow. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey reached out and put his hand on Dr. Mohammed’s arm.It was easier when he was the one doing the touching rather than the one getting touched.</p><p> </p><p>“May I explain death by lung cancer?” Dr. Mohammed asked, putting his hand over Mickey’s.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded, trying to make himself stand still.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  The hand on his hand </span>was meant as a comfort, not a confinement.He was over this god damn it, but he could feel his pulse racing and his breathing quickening.He forced himself not to move.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed continued talking like he was oblivious to Mickey’s distress.“He will struggle to breathe.Eventually no amount of medication or oxygen will help.He will lose weight and become frail.Depending on where the cancer has metastasized to, he could have liver failure, endocrine imbalances, fragile bones, dementia.”</p><p> </p><p>“But hospice will make him comfortable.”Mickey protested.  He had seen Frank.They loaded him up with pain killers and benzos.</p><p> </p><p>“Did Frank seem comfortable to you?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>Frank had been hooked up to so many machines.He had been canary yellow and his belly had been so distended he looked like he was pregnant with triplets. There was no way that was comfortable.Frank had just been so high he didn’t care.“No.”</p><p> </p><p>“There are things that will be done to make your father as comfortable as possible, but this is a terrible way to die.No matter what hospice does for him, I promise you, he will suffer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”Mickey grunted, pulling his hand free while telling himself lasting that long was okay for now.If touching was what he and Dr. Mohammed were talking about right now, he’d be told not to be too hard on himself given the situation.He had to allow himself room to have emotions, or some shit like that.He slapped the dough ball he had been kneading into it’s bowl and covering it with a damp towel.</p><p> </p><p>As he reached for the next bowl of dough to knead, Dr. Mohammed continued.“Imagine a man who has used fear and intimidation to bully his way through life suddenly facing nothing but pity even as he rages.He will lose control of his family and his criminal enterprises.People with scores to settle will come for him.Imagine your father powerless, frail, frightened, and unable to protect himself.He will diminish and fade into painful, hypoxic, diapered dependency with death as his only escape.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey looked up into clear brown eyes that stared right back into his blue ones. “Damn, Doc.When you put it like that, it’s almost like he’s getting what he deserves.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”Dr.Mohammed agreed. </p><p> </p><p>“I guess I’ll think about it.”Mickey said.He liked the idea of Terry humiliated and dependent on other people to wipe his ass.There was a real appeal to watching his old man wither away into frail, pain riddled, impotent, inconsequence.</p><p> </p><p>This wasn't <em>The Godfather.</em>No one would be coming to kiss the ring or pay their respects.The family in the Southside would just keep going like they always didwhen Terry was locked up.Nothing would change for them, but for the New York family it would be huge.</p><p> </p><p>“Add to all of this, if he is in hospice he will also suffer the indignity of relying on the kindness of the people he was cruelest to.”</p><p> </p><p>“You think he’d be sorry then?”Mickey asked, wondering why he would ask such a stupid question when he already knew the answer.Terry would never be sorry.</p><p> </p><p>“No.I do not.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey nodded.Not once had he ever seen his father apologize for something he’d done.His old man was too proud.“He won’t go.He’ll just stay with one of his brothers or maybe eat a bullet.”</p><p> </p><p>“His care needs will escalate quickly. If your uncles are like him, they will not be willing to do the work required.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what they have wives for.”Mickey countered.Milkovich men tended to marry doormats who did exactly what they were told.If they weren’t at the start they got beat into a carpet pretty quick.Collectively all of his aunts were highly fertile housewives who spent most of their time trying to stay off their husbands’ radar.If Tony told his aunt Katya to take care of Terry, she would.She would or she’d get beaten.</p><p> </p><p>“It is only a suggestion.You will do what makes you most comfortable.”</p><p> </p><p>Damn right he would, but before he could seriously consider his options, they had to find Terry. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> Everything hinged on that.</span></p><p> </p><p>“I’m completely fucking up my job.”Mickey muttered, changing the subject to another thing he was worried about.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you say this?”Dr. Mohamed asked, allowing the subject to be changed,</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been home more than I’ve worked since I started this gig.”That wasn’t quite true anymore, but close enough he worried.He had asked for so many favors already.Here he was, barely back from an impromptu vacation about to ask for yet another favor.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps you should give your mentor enough information to understand and allow you to work from home for a while.”Dr. Mohammed suggested.“You need something to do with your time, Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just feel like I’m always asking that guy for favors, you know?”Mickey demurred.He had asked Tom for far too much already.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but the other option is to go in to the office.Given how you feel right now, would that be wise?”</p><p> </p><p>No.He was pretty sure the only reason he wasn’t trapped in a panic attack that did not let go was because he was inside Ian’s insane zombie apocalypse fortress.It pissed him off that Ethan and friends has talked Ian into the insanity that was the security system, especially when he had been manic and they knew it, but right now he was grateful to be locked inside it. </p><p> </p><p>He had no plans to leave it until he knew where Terry was.He didn’t want anyone currently inside to put even a toe out the front door until they had eyes on Terry and they knew who had come to New York with him.That left him with only one option.“Fuck.I’ll call him.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Hello?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Tom.It’s Mickey.”It was pretty late, so he was surprised the call hadn’t gone straight to voice mail.He’d been prepared for voice mail.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you alright?”Tom asked, sounding concerned.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”Mickey replied.He had never lied to this man and he wasn’t going to start now. “I need to work from home for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom sighed and Mickey’s heart sunk.“I need a reason for that, Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.I know.Sorry I said fuck.” He felt awkward and unprepared.He should have just texted.“My father was released from prison.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you need time to help him get settled?”Tom asked, sounding understanding and maybe a little sympathetic. </p><p> </p><p>“No.”Mickey denied.The only thing he would help Terry settle into was his grave.Still, as much as Tom knew about his life, which was a lot, he knew very little about his father.Feeling like shit for bursting his boss’ bubble, Mickey stumbled over his words.“No.He was really...abusive.All my life.It was worst in prison.He...broke my hip and my ankle, some ribs, both arms, some fingers, my nose I have no idea how many times, cracked my skull open... sent me to ICU a couple times...they let him out and I don’t know where he is.All I know is he’s coming for me.And Ian...or pretty much anyone I love that he can fuck up.”</p><p> </p><p>Tom was silent for a long moment during which Mickey got more and more anxious.Finally Tom asked, “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a raging homophobe who keeps trying to beat the gay out of me.”Mickey hoped that was enough of an explanation. “I defied him, you know?I didn’t become who he wanted.He wanted a clone, someone to be just like him and take over when he decided he wanted them to.He wanted someone he could control and he tried like hell to beat me into submission, but...” He trailed off, feeling unsure of himself.</p><p> </p><p>“But you are your own man.”Tom stated it like it was an undisputed fact.</p><p> </p><p>“Trying to be.”Mickey replied, Tom’s confidence in him making him feel weird. “Ian has people looking for him.I just want to work from home until we have eyes on him.”</p><p> </p><p>“What an extraordinary life you have.” </p><p> </p><p>From anyone else, Mickey might have been insulted, but what he heard in Tom’s voice was respect.“That’s one way to put it.”</p><p> </p><p>“So if you work from home, you’ll feel safer?”Tom asked, making Mickey feel like he understood.</p><p> </p><p>“You remember Mildred?Yeah.I’ll be safer there.”Between the bullet proof glass, hurricane shutters, Mildred and private security, he figured he was as safe as he could get until Terry was six feet under.</p><p> </p><p>“Mother, yes I remember.”Tom had found it funny that Mildred sounded like Mother from <em>Alien</em>.Mickey was so used to it he barely even noticed anymore.“I don’t know how to sell this to the other partners.Jim won’t care, but Cory might.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clive.”Mickey muttered.God, he hated that man.</p><p> </p><p>“Is an idiot, but he has successfully poisoned his father against you.”Tom told Mickey what he had already known.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sighed, knowing it would come to this even though he had tried to avoid it.“I don’t want to quit, but I will if I have to.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’d quit?”</p><p> </p><p>“No choice.I’m not gonna make it easy for him. I’m told he’s dying and if that’s true he has nothing left to lose.”Mickey said and immediately regretted it.He had not meant to share that.Nor did he mean for his mouth to keep running. “Look.He’s a killer.A stone cold killer.I’ve...seen some shit.He has zero problem pulling a drive by or going postal on the office if he thinks it’ll fuck up my super gay life.I can’t have that on me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Should I be worried?”Tom asked, finally sounding like he understood the gravity of the situation.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah.”Mickey tried to reassure.“Ian has security looking out for you and the office.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Everyone I give a shit about is being guarded in some way.That includes my mentor and my job.Clive can eat a bullet, but the rest of you I’d rather not lose if I can help it.”Mickey admitted.They had given him a chance and here he was completely fucking up their lives.He could live with that.What he couldn’t live with was if one of these people got hurt because of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Legally...”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey cut him off.“Fuck legal.Should I have gotten your consent?Yeah.Probably.Do I give a rat’s ass if you consent or not?Not really, no. I’m not letting him hurt you.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s good to know you care, Mickey, but can’t we just tell the building security...”</p><p> </p><p>“We did.” Ian said it was part of the overall plan, protecting places of work.They had alerted the security at the WPS building, the Claymore building, Svetlana’s building and the kids’ school.It sounded nuts, but Terry would hurt him in whatever way he could.Mickey was 100 percent sure of that.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Once we know where he is, I’ll pull it all back.”Mickey promised, not sure if he was lying or not.It depended on where his father was and what he was up to. </p><p> </p><p>“I will talk to the partners.We’ve invested a lot in you and it would be a shame to lose that investment.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.”Mickey said, stung to be thought of as a mere asset. He had thought their weekly coffee sessions had been more than just business meetings.</p><p> </p><p>Upset, Mickey had to hang up before he said something stupid. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the delay again.  I keep reworking this section because I still don’t like it.  I did some minor edits to Chapter 23, but nothing earth shattering.</p><p>I’m not in love with this chapter either, but I could probably spend the next month fiddling with it and still not love it.  </p><p>I hate Terry.  </p><p>I hate writing about Terry.  </p><p>I don’t want him in this universe, but he’s a canon character that I made even more important through what he did to Mickey.  </p><p>The original version sort of blew through this part like speed bump rather than a hurdle and that doesn’t do justice to what came before or what comes after - but I HATE writing it, so...good times.</p><p>Fair warning, I’ll probably edit this too and there will probably be another 2 week gap.</p><p>Anyway, I hope those of you in Texas are okay.  I got lucky (I am hearing horror stories about 10K electric bills so, “lucky” in the survival sense but maybe not the financial) and only lost power for an hour and never lost water or gas.  I think this is because I am located very close to a hospital I don’t work at, a police station, a fire station and a major airport hub.  </p><p>Stay safe out there.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Indecent Proposal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was incredible how different the start of their day was from the way it was ending.They had started carefree and easy on the beach and ended up barricaded inside their house in New York.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost Ian’s witching hour when his evening meds would kick in, but Mickey was still pacing back and forth, back and forth, in their room.Ian was already in bed watching the brunette, wishing there was something, anything, he could do to make this easier for him.It broke his heart to see Mickey Milkovich, the toughest Southsider he knew, so obviously afraid.He had hoped Dr. Mohammed’s visit would help, but it hadn’t seemed to.“We’ve done everything we can, Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”Mickey said, turning around near the windows and making his way back towards the bedroom door.</p><p> </p><p>“Pacing isn’t going to help.”</p><p> </p><p>“Know that too.”Mickey snapped, still walking. “Just can’t sit still.”</p><p> </p><p>“Take an Ativan.”Ian suggested.Mickey had to be dead tired.Usually he slept for hours after a panic attack and on top of that they had run two miles together that morning and then four more when Mickey freaked out.For a guy who didn’t run, that was a lot of exercise.He had to be exhausted.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve taken six already.”Mickey admitted, still pacing.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow.”Ian muttered, doing the math in his head and calculating Mickey had about three milligrams of the drug on board.His prescription said he could go up to two milligrams three times a day for a max dose of six milligrams, so there was still some room, but usually Mickey was super chill on one milligram and passed out when he had taken two milligrams. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s just...fuck.”Mickey raked his fingers through his hair and stopped, staring at the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, but you’re safe here.”Ian reminded him. It was a running joke with the security team at Claymore how they were all coming to Ian’s house in the event of a zombie apocalypse.It pissed him off sometimes that they had used a moment of weakness to talk him into building such insane security features, but on the other hand, those features were probably the only reason Mickey was pacing rather than melting down.</p><p> </p><p>“He gets nothing more from me.Nothing.”Mickey told the floor.“This is the last energy I’m spending on him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”Ian agreed, knowing this was far from the end of it, but wanting to be supportive.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gay.”Mickey announced.</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled sadly.He hated how this one inescapable fact was the cause of so much pain.Mickey could no more help being gay than he could help being short. “I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.”Mickey said, looking up at him finally.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”Ian agreed.No one fought this hard without love as the motivator.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s gaze turned speculative.“I’m gonna marry you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Eventually.”Ian nodded.He liked that Mickey was stating it like a fact, but knew it was too soon.Mickey had told him so.</p><p> </p><p>“No.Now.”Mickey said, posture defiant.</p><p> </p><p>It caught Ian off guard.“But...”</p><p> </p><p>“In his lifetime.I’ve been thinking about it.It’s gonna be fucking huge.Every single person we know will be there.Party of the year shit.We’ll get someone Mandy recommends to plan it so she can be best man...woman, whatever.Then we will strap my old man to a chair and make him watch the video over and over until he chokes on it.”</p><p> </p><p>“A revenge wedding.” Ian summarized.“Classy.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey started pacing again, but this time it was purposeful, like the wheels in his mind that had been uselessly spinning finally caught traction.“Will be.You're sparing no expense.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m not?”Ian asked, amused.He had not expected this at all, but was willing to indulge it since it took Mickey’s mind off his fear.</p><p> </p><p>“No.It’s gonna be fucking incredible.”Mickey told him.</p><p> </p><p>“Like Mandy and her three dress changes and a wedding cake taller than she is?”Ian asked. </p><p> </p><p>They had never talked about what their wedding might be like.Ian had assumed it would be a subdued affair with just a few family and friends present, maybe a destination type deal.No way could he envision Mickey enduring a huge, formal event with hundreds of people watching them.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, only cooler than that.” Mickey agreed, surprising him.Then he took it a bit further. “Like renting a 737 and however many floors of a hotel that is to bring in my whole fucking family, all the barflies at the Alibi and anyone else who wants to come.”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, that was just weird.“Um...”</p><p> </p><p>“Like at the Ritz!”Mickey exclaimed, glaring at him triumphantly.</p><p> </p><p>“Mick...”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing but the best.” Mickey continued, resuming his pacing. “Let him see how ruined my life is.Let him know no matter what he did, I. Did. Not. Break.”</p><p> </p><p>Yes, that was the point.The point was to rub their happiness in Terry’s face before he died.Ian was very comfortable with that, but he didn’t want to get married just to prove a point.“So...”</p><p> </p><p>“Gay. Educated. Loved. Rich...well you are, but basically everything he tried to keep me from being.Fuck him and fuck you if you say anything other than yes and what can I do to help.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian blinked.“You have a really weird way of proposing.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey stopped.“Fine.Ian, will you marry me?”</p><p> </p><p>“I asked you first.”Ian reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”Mickey shrugged.“I do, whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>Holy hell.As much as he wanted to marry Mickey, this was not how he wanted to do it.There were reasons Mickey had not wanted to get married yet and those had not gone away just because Terry was out of prison.“What about the consummation issue you told me was the reason you weren’t ready yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“I might record that too.Make him watch me love what you do to me.”Mickey replied, scowling.</p><p> </p><p>It was a very odd thing to say, but in the context of Mickey’s life where his father had twice forced sex on him while he sat back and watched like a incestuous voyeur it almost made sense. </p><p> </p><p>Terry had tried hard to ruin sex for Mickey so in some ways Ian could understand how he would think making Terry watch him enjoy it for once would be the ultimate revenge.Almost. </p><p> </p><p>Not wanting to contradict him because he knew that would just make things worse, Ian suggested, “Well, maybe we should sleep on the idea and see how you feel about it in the morning, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Or not sleep.”Mickey said with an eyebrow wag.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, this was beginning to sound unhinged.It was driven by a combination of terror, exhaustion and defiance by that did nothing to make it less weird.There was absolutely no way he was going to engage with Mickey when he was like this.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, Ian said, “Mickey, I love you and I want to marry you.I will agree to almost anything you want to do about a wedding, but tonight all I want to do is sleep.Today has been exhausting.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not tired though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, you are.” Ian disagreed.He pulled back the covers on Mickey’s side of the bed and patted the pillow. “It’s been a hell of a day.Come to bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”Mickey said, standing there chewing on his lip.</p><p> </p><p>“Mildred and a fuck ton of security are watching over us.We’ll be okay if we sleep.”Ian offered through a yawn.Everyone was as safe as he could make them.Terry could not get into the house.He had personally tested all of the shutters and windows himself just to make sure.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey ran a hand through his hair.“Not like you get much choice anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.It’s my witching hour.Come to bed.”Ian agreed, snuggling down a little into the pillows. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey got into the bed.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Mickey woke up alone and disoriented.He reached for his phone to find out it was after 10 o’clock. </p><p> </p><p>He got up, took his Zoloft and two Ativan before he went to the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>He looked at himself in the mirror.He looked like shit.</p><p> </p><p>Yesterday morning he had been happily lounging on the beach sipping a mimosa, not a care in the world. </p><p> </p><p>Today he was locked inside a literal fortress unable to pull his shirt over his head.</p><p> </p><p>It was stupid.He had been running around in public in nothing but shorts yesterday.Girls had been perving on him and while a little uncomfortable, it had also been kind of fabulous.He’d been <em>proud</em> of himself, which was fucking rare.</p><p> </p><p>Now, his hand was shaking holding onto the hem of his shirt as if pulling it over his head was the hardest thing in the world.It wasn’t hard.It was not.It was just a shirt.Under it was a huge tattoo and an assortment of scars. </p><p> </p><p>But he had seen his guts.Literally seen his insides and for some reason, that was all he could think about as he stood there.As irrational as it was, he felt like if he pulled his shirt up he would see them again and he just...he couldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Ian walked in holding a coffee mug.“Here.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey took it, glad for the distraction and angry at how hard his hands were shaking.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy had made the coffee.He could tell because it was watery.For a girl who loved Starbucks her home brew game was some weak ass shit.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay.”Ian said, watching him in the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“Good.”Mickey nodded.He figured it was pretty clear to both of them he was not okay.He eyed Ian, but the ginger menace seemed okay.Maybe they dodged that bullet.He hoped they had.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want breakfast?”Ian asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Little late for that. May as well wait for lunch.”Mickey wasn’t hungry.</p><p> </p><p>“Brunch is an option.”Ian said with a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you believe just yesterday we were having brunch on a beach?”Mickey asked, because he could not.So much had changed in the space of a single phone call. </p><p> </p><p>“Seems surreal, huh?”Ian agreed.</p><p> </p><p>Everything had an unreal quality to it right now.Everything felt wrong and backwards and just fucked up.“I hate this.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”Ian agreed, not moving or touching him as if he knew Mickey would freak out if he did.</p><p> </p><p>It was all so fucked up.“I said a lot of stupid shit last night.”</p><p> </p><p>“Must have been after I fell asleep.”Ian replied with a lop sided grin that told Mickey he had indeed said what he had half heartedly hoped was a bad dream.The Ativan sometimes gave him weird dreams, but unfortunately it looked like he had some back peddling to do.</p><p> </p><p>“Did I tell you to hire a 737 to fly in the entire Southside for a massive fuck you of a wedding?”Mickey asked, ninety nine percent certain he had.</p><p> </p><p>“We can do that, if it’s what you want.”Ian said, watching him carefully.</p><p> </p><p>That had to be the shittiest proposal of all time.He wondered if it held up and they were engaged now when that was a question he’d asked while highly medicated and under duress.Then he remembered something worse.“And I wanted to film us fucking and make my dad watch it.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian grimaced.“Yeah, that we’re not doing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fucking right we’re not.That’s sick.”Mickey agreed, disgusted with himself for even thinking something like that much less saying it out loud.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been through a lot of sick shit, Mickey.”Ian replied, expression softening.“It’s okay to say this stuff to me, you know that right?I’m not judging.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”Mickey nodded, because what else was he supposed to do?Ian probably wasn’t judging.He’d seen some sick shit too.Mickey went back to staring at himself in the mirror.He took another sip of Mandy’s bad coffee and told himself he was going to pull the shirt over his head. </p><p> </p><p>He was going to do it right now. </p><p> </p><p>Right now.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t do it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do what?” Ian asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Look at myself.”Mickey admitted.“In the mirror.Every day for months I’ve been taking my shirt off and looking, you know?Just...I finally got there.I mean, yesterday?It felt like a breakthrough and today I’m back at square one.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you think you’ll see?”Ian asked and it was a valid question.The view from yesterday was no different from what he would see today.</p><p> </p><p>However, it wasn’t the phoenix or the scars he was thinking about.All he could think about was, “I saw my guts.You have no idea how much that still fucks with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can imagine.” Ian nodded.“You know, maybe today you don’t have to look.Maybe, you just go take a shower and don’t worry about the mirror.”</p><p> </p><p>“He wins then.”Mickey retorted.</p><p> </p><p>Ian shook his head.“So today he wins the mirror contest, but it’s one small battle in a much larger war.A war you’re winning by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“How you figure that?I find out he’s free and immediately lose my shit and fall apart.”Mickey disagreed.He felt like he was in pieces.</p><p> </p><p>“You have PTSD, Mickey.One of the worst triggers you have happened yesterday.It would have been weird if you hadn’t had a panic attack.”Ian reminded him. “Since that trigger hasn’t been resolved, I think it’s pretty amazing how well you are holding yourself together.”</p><p> </p><p>“I scared Yev last night.”Mickey said.He hated that he had done that.He wasn’t sure he’d be able to avoid doing it again today.</p><p> </p><p>“The kids don’t understand what’d going on, but they know something is because all the adults are acting weird.It isn’t just you.”Ian said.“Mandy thinks he’s coming after her for running away.Iggy thinks he’s coming after him for losing the house.Svetlana thinks he wants to steal Yev.I think he wants to kill me.Your father is an evil bastard who left scars on all of us.”</p><p> </p><p>“He probably does want to kill you.” Mickey muttered.Taking Ian from him was among Mickey’s greatest fears.</p><p> </p><p>Ian grimaced.</p><p> </p><p>“Makes me feel bad for Chelsey and what’s his face being stuck with all these fucked up people.”Mickey said, changing the subject.He wondered if either of them would stay now that they knew the real truth of their family.It was one thing to hear about it, but a very different thing to live it.</p><p> </p><p>“Trent.Yeah, I feel bad for them too.They don’t know him.They don’t know us.Like the us from before, you know?They only know what we’ve made of ourselves, not where we started.”</p><p> </p><p>“This has got to seem batshit crazy to them.”Mickey said, because it was bizarre to him too and he’d known it was coming.He had not known Ian’s house was quite as fortified as it was, but he was definitely grateful for it.Still it was weird as fuck.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.I hope we find him soon so we can all go back to some semblance of normal.”Ian agreed and finally reached out and touched him. “Stop with the mirror.Bypass it, take your shower and come down and finish making your bread.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“How is he?”Mandy asked as Ian came down into the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>“Honestly?Better than I thought he’d be.”Ian replied, scratching the back of his head.He had expected Mickey to be shut down and angry, but he had been a lot more open about how he was feeling than normal. </p><p> </p><p>He was amazed Mickey had admitted to his struggle with his shirt.Being willing to talk about it felt like an enormous step forward, but he doubted telling Mickey that would help right now.It would be better to just be as supportive as he could be and let Mickey work through this in his own way. </p><p> </p><p>Svetlana walked into the kitchen and refilled her coffee cup.“Children watch cartoons upstairs.I think we keep them there today.I already explain we do school from home this week.I will be teacher.Carrot boy, you will be boss at Claymore this time.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s probably a good idea.”Ian agreed.He would hover over Mickey if he didn’t have something else to focus on and he knew Mickey would need space.</p><p> </p><p>Ian’s attention returned to Mandy.She looked like she was about to come unglued and he assumed that was mostly to do with Terry, but also concern about what this was doing to her job and her relationship.</p><p> </p><p>Ian looked over at Trent.He was taller than Ian, slender with warn brown eyes and a well kept beard Ian was mildly jealous of.He was being attentive to Mandy, which seemed like a good sign, but Ian wasn’t sure how much Trent really understood about the situation.</p><p> </p><p>Musing on that, he said, “Great way to meet us, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Definitely unforgettable that’s for sure.”Trent agreed, squeezing Mandy into his side just as her phone started to buzz. </p><p> </p><p>“Damn it. I have to take this.” She announced after seeing who was calling.She stood on her tip toes to lightly kiss Trent’s cheek.She turned to look at Ian.“Be nice!”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smirked as she answered her phone and walked away from them.He promised nothing.He and Trent had met the night before, but dinner had been a stilted affair where no one talked much.This was the first time they were getting to talk alone.To Trent he said, “I was really looking forward to meeting you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Me too.”Trent agreed.“We’ve been talking about family dinner for weeks now, but Mandy was always reluctant.Then, whiplash.No more excuses, just pack a bag and get your ass over here.I’ll explain on the way, and wow.That was some explanation.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s life with a Milkovich...I mean Alexandrovich.” Ian agreed with a smirk that almost immediately melted into regret.He didn’t want to scare Trent off.Milkoviches were a breed apart, but the three in New York were not like the rest of their family.That was the important thing and the part he needed to focus Trent’s attention on.“I know this has to seem a little insane.”</p><p> </p><p>“She told me what he did to her and how you helped her through it.”Trent said, solemn. “I understand why she’s afraid of him.What a piece of shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian hated thinking about that so he chose not to.Besides, it was just one of many terrible things Terry had done to his family.“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what Mandy said.”Trent nodded and Ian understood the look on his face.It was helplessness mixed with frustration.He had been feeling that way for years now, but Mickey was worth it.So was Mandy.</p><p> </p><p>Chelsey had walked into the kitchen and gotten a cup of coffee while they had been talking.She joined the conversation.“Do you really think he’d kill Iggy over a house?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian realized it was just the three of them, the significant others, and that both of them were looking to him for guidance.It made sense.Ian had grown up with them.Mandy was his best friend and he had loved Mickey for almost a decade.Sometimes it had been hard as fuck, but it had also always been worth it. </p><p> </p><p>Ian heaved a sigh.He just hoped Chelsey and Trent would be able to see past this final moment of Terry’s malignant dominance in the lives of his children to the future that was possible once Terry was gone.Still, the truth was, “I don’t know if he will, but I know he could.”</p><p> </p><p>“So Iggy isn’t exaggerating?”Chelsey asked, eyes wide.</p><p> </p><p>Ian wanted to pretend things were better than they were because he didn't want to scare them, but how could he given the circumstances?“I know all of us seem deranged about this, but Terry Milkovich is a monster.He is a cruel, controlling asshole who abused the living shit out of his kids. They have very legitimate reasons to be afraid of him.”</p><p> </p><p>Chelsey frowned, eyes going hard.It made Ian feel better because it signaled a willingness to fight for the man she loved.Trent looked thoughtful and Ian wasn’t sure what to make of that so he went on trying to explain.“Mandy, Iggy, and Mickey have been through the ringer and worked like hell to build new lives for themselves. I mean, if you’d known any of us 10 years ago, you never would expect us to be here.For them this was only possible because Terry was locked up.He never would have let any of them do what they're doing now.So now they’re afraid he will try to take it all away from them.” </p><p> </p><p>“She told me that, but I mean...shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian understood.Sort of.He had grown up somewhere between the two extremes he was attempting to bridge.It wasn’t the burbs and it had been far from stable, but his house had a lot of love in it.He felt like that helped him understand Chelsey and Trent in a way the Milkovich siblings couldn’t.He could also relate to the poverty, addictions, criminal behavior and cruelty in the Milkovich house.Neither of the people he was talking to had a clue what any of that was like.</p><p> </p><p>More to himself than to his audience, he said, “The good news is he’s dying.He was let out because he has stage four lung cancer.This is six month-ish long problem.” </p><p> </p><p>“Six months?”Chelsey repeated, incredulous and Ian immediately understood her concern.She had not signed up for a six month long siege. </p><p> </p><p>“Once we know where he is, things will get better.”Ian quickly reassured.Once they knew where he was, they could go back to a semblance of their normal lives...while being trailed everywhere they went by armed security. </p><p> </p><p>“Why?”Trent asked, eyes full of calculus.Ian wished he knew what was being measured.Mandy needed this man to stick it out and from the look on his face Ian wasn’t so sure Trent had that kind of devotion in him. </p><p> </p><p>Unsure what he could say to make it better, if upping the ante would work or if he should attempt to backtrack some of what he had already said, Ian scratched at the back of his head. </p><p> </p><p>This wasn’t a game.It was just their life and if either of these people really loved Mandy and Iggy then they would have to accept that.He opted for honesty and answered, “We just need to know where he is.Terry is heavy handed and impetuous.That’s why he’s been in and out of jail all his life and why he’s never been more than a low level thug.Don’t get me wrong, he has power.There are probably a couple hundred Milkoviches and he’s the family patriarch.They do what he tells them, like what he tells them, hate what he tells them.The greatest crime in a family like that is disloyalty.”</p><p> </p><p>“You describe their family like it’s the mob.”Chelsey said.</p><p> </p><p>“That actually is a good way to explain it.”Ian agreed and then saw the horror on both their faces.He quickly amended, “They aren’t mafia or anything.I mean, if they are, it’s on the fringes and very low level.More like a gang I gue...”</p><p> </p><p>“Gee, thanks Ian for that not at all terrifying description of my family.”Mandy cut him off as she came back into the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry.I just don’t know how else to describe them.”Ian shrugged, apologetic but serious.He really didn't know what other words to use.</p><p> </p><p>“I am so sorry you had to go through all this.”Trent said, putting an arm around Mandy’s shoulders and pulling her against him.It was the right move, but the look in his eyes was still calculating.Trent was on the fence in Ian’s opinion. </p><p> </p><p>“I had a friend in college who was abused by her boyfriend.He had her convinced it was her fault he treated her the way he did.She thought if she could do better, conform a little more, complain a little less then everything would be great. The biggest con of all was him pretending he felt bad for beating her and if she would just do better then he wouldn't have to be so bad.The guilt made it hard for her to leave him.I still hate him.”Chelsey told them.</p><p> </p><p>“Did she leave him?”Mandy asked. </p><p> </p><p>Ian remembered Kenyatta, an old boyfriend who had abused her.She’d gotten away from him, but Ian didn’t know the details.She never talked about it and he never asked, but he knew it had taken a lot of courage.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re married with two kids.”Chelsey replied with a helpless shrug.“I still see her sometimes, but until she wants help, there’s nothing I can do for her.”</p><p> </p><p>“So we stay here until we find your father?”Trent asked Mandy, changing the subject back to their confinement.</p><p> </p><p>“At least until we know where he is.”She said, repeating what Ian had already told them.She wearing her brave face that Ian knew hid a lot of insecurities.</p><p> </p><p>Trying to ease the tension a little, Ian decided to confront the main reason staying at his house was a problem.It was a problem for everyone but him and Svetlana.“I know this is a huge ask that could hurt both of you with your jobs.If I can help, I want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not a problem. I can work from here.In fact, I’m going to set up a makeshift office in our room, if that’s cool.”Trent immediately refused.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.Of course.”Ian agreed, glad Trent could work remote.That was one less problem to worry about.</p><p> </p><p>Chelsey didn’t have that option though.She was the owner of a small mobile grooming business.Being a sole proprietor was hard.There were no safety nets.As his head of marketing put it, being self employed was like being a leopard: you ate what you killed.“Obviously, you can’t work from home.I don't want your business to suffer because of us.I’ll cover what you're missing not being able to work.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got savings.I’ll be okay.”Chelsey demurred getting up and heading to the kitchen leaving Ian fairly certain he had offended her.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was a weird day, everyone having staked out their corners and essentially avoiding each other.Mickey was in the kitchen again, making yet more bread and griping about how he knew it was crazy, but for everyone to just leave him the fuck alone.He was going to donate it.</p><p> </p><p>Ian had not thought they had enough flour to keep Mickey busy for so long, but then found out there were two 50 pound bags in the basement walk-in that Svetlana had bought because she knew what an outlet baking had become for her ex-husband.Ian loved her for thinking of it because he sure hadn’t.</p><p> </p><p>He spent most of the day dividing his time between hanging out on the sixth floor with the kids and hiding out in his office when he’d had enough pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t.</p><p> </p><p>It was nearly dinner time when he came down to the second floor to see if whoever was cooking needed help.</p><p> </p><p>He found Mandy alone in the living room with a MacBook in her lap. She slammed it closed and sighed.</p><p> </p><p>The tension in the house was an almost electric buzz, everyone on edge while trying to pretend they were fine.He sat next to her on the couch.“You okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.I took a sick day to work out my next steps.It basically means I’m working from home since my assistant is still learning the ropes, but...” She caught Ian looking at her. “Yes.I have an assistant slash trainee. Can you believe that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, yeah.I was wondering how you were doing it all by yourself.”Ian replied.He could not do ever a fraction of what he did without the team of people supporting him.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t anymore so the hotel gave me a trainee.She’s nowhere near ready to manage on her own, but she can follow directions and she has good taste.”Mandy said.</p><p> </p><p>“So it’ll be okay if you work from home for a few days.”Ian asked, mostly for his own sake.He hated this entire situation and wanted to make it as comfortable as he could.</p><p> </p><p>“Hopefully.”Mandy nodded.“I thought we’d find him by now, but then it occurred to me he’s probably not doing his own leg work, especially not if he’s sick.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably not.”Ian agreed.“The good news is damn near everyone in your family has a rap sheet so if there are cousins lurking around the house, they’ll be spotted.”</p><p> </p><p>She grimaced.“Does this feel like overkill to you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure.I’d rather be too paranoid than not paranoid enough though.By that I mean...” He stopped himself because she was looking at him in that calculating way people did when they wondered if he was heading off the rails.He knew this was a dangerous time for him because the stress was immense, so he was being extra careful with himself.“I’m taking my meds and sticking to my routine.Felt a little too energetic last night so I upped my downer.Feel okay today.I seem okay, right?”</p><p> </p><p>He was never sure.He could tell when he was getting depressed, but mania was a lot harder to catch.He had a reason for all the nervous energy he felt, but his inventory indicated he should up his downers.He could have made excuses about the situation, but he decided he would rather trigger a depression by over doing the downers than risk the harm he could cause if he swung the other way.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.You do.”Mandy agreed with a nod.Then she changed the subject.“Trent is totally going to run.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian had the same worry, but he wondered what her reasons were so he asked, “Why do you say that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have a psycho father.We’ve locked him up in a house with what may as well be bars on the windows.He can’t get out unless Mildred gives him permission.”She threw her arms out to encompass the house.“I mean...wow!Some catch I am.No liabilities here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but it’s almost over, Mands.Once he’s dead, you’re free.If Trent can’t see what’s on the other side of this, fuck him.”Ian said.Trent or no Trent, a whole new world opened up for all of them once Terry died.</p><p> </p><p>She nodded sadly. “If I were him I wouldn’t bother with this mess, if I could avoid it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Technically I’m in the same boat as Trent.I stay because I love him.”Ian reminded her.If Trent couldn’t see Mandy was worth it then he wasn’t worthy of her.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but you get it.Trent doesn’t.He will never get it.” </p><p> </p><p>“True, but maybe that’s a good thing, you know?He knows what normal is.None of the rest of us do.”He and Dr. Brynner talked about normal sometimes.She insisted there was no normal because each person’s experiences were different.Ian thought of normal as the statistical mean between extremes. Those who lived in the middle got to experience a little joy and a little pain, but what made them normal was that it was only a little of each.Their lives weren’t idyllic or trouble free, but they also weren’t trapped in a maze of poverty and binary choices.</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes I think I’m fucking him up.Like, his life was normal until he met me.He never had to even think about this sort of stuff and now he’s neck deep in shit he doesn’t even understand.He said last night he feels like he’s living in a movie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Makes sense I guess.”Ian agreed.Trent would never understand them.He couldn’t.He grew up in suburbia with two parents who didn’t hate each other, beat each other, or disappear on drug binges or prison sentences.He got good grades and played first string varsity baseball for his high school team.He went straight to college, lived in the dorms, joined a fraternity and graduated right on schedule.He was the living embodiment of what Ian assumed was normal.</p><p> </p><p>“But on the flip side, when all of this is over, when worrying about what Terry will think or what he’ll do no longer factor into your decisions, what then?”Ian asked, because it was something he had through about a lot when Frank died.“I still have to remind myself sometimes that Frank can’t fuck up my life anymore.Once Terry can’t either, I mean, that’s a whole new kind of scary, you know?Like, yea do I walk through the shadow of death.The path was defined by the shadows, but with those gone, where is the path?”</p><p> </p><p>“Holy hell, Ian.These are the things that go through your mind?”Mandy asked, looking at him like had grown a second head.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but I’m crazy so...there’s that.I just think there is a brave new world just over the horizon and it scares me a little.I don’t know how to do normal.At least you’re with someone who does.”</p><p> </p><p>She shrugged.“I thought normal was the goal.”</p><p> </p><p>“It is, but I think it’s sort of like having wealth as a goal.You get it, but then what?In a lot of ways it’s like what Biggie Smalls said, more money, more problems.They’re just not the kind of problems you can anticipate because you had no idea some things could even <em>be</em> a problem.It’s way better than being poor, but sometimes I miss the black and white of poverty where the choices suck but they’re binary.Being rich is like living in a fog of options.You can’t see the consequences until later.I think normal is going to be a lot like that.”Ian said, not thinking he was explaining himself very well.“Does that make sense?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kind of.” She nodded.“The timing just sucks.We were doing so good and now it just feels weird.”</p><p> </p><p>“No matter when he got out, the timing was going to suck.”Ian reminded her.“Maybe it’s better it’s happening now.Even if things with Trent fall apart, you know what’s possible now.You know what you can have and that’s huge.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m reminded why Mickey calls you Pollyanna sometimes.”</p><p> </p><p>“So sue me for trying to think positive.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope everyone is doing well!</p><p>If you live in Texas or Mississippi please keep wearing your mask, social distancing and washing your hands.  Just because our governors are idiots, doesn’t mean we have to be.</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Unloading</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was their regular session day, but still not knowing where Terry was and not wanting to risk another home visit, Mickey was calling in for his session with Dr. Mohammed. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t really want to talk to his shrink since they had talked two days ago, but he needed to.It was the times he didn’t want to talk that he needed to talk the most.He’d been in therapy long enough to know that now.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey settled into his chair in his office and dialed his shrink.Dr. Mohammed picked up on the second ring. “Hello Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m back at square one.”Mickey said without preamble.In the host of things he had to be upset about, this was the one getting to him the most.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean I’m back at square one.I’m barely sleeping and when I do I wake up swinging.Can you up my prazosin?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I will send in a new prescription for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sighed, relieved he might be able to get past the nightmares but that wasn’t the only problem he was having.“Being touched makes me sick to my stomach.I can’t even look at myself anymore.”He had tried again this morning and still couldn’t do it. “It pisses me off.I almost had my fucking life back.”</p><p> </p><p>“You do not know where he is yet, I presume.”Dr. Mohammed said, cutting to the chase.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”Mickey ground out.He could not understand why they still didn’t know.So far, all they had been told was where he wasn’t.He wasn’t on the Southside.He wasn’t checked in to any of the Chicago area hospitals.Mickey was certain he had to be in New York.It was only a 12 hour drive from Chicago.It killed him they didn’t know where he was yet. Until he knew, he would continue to be a basket case and he hated it.“Two days ago I was walking around shirtless on a beach.My boyfriend blew me and it was fucking fantastic, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Boyfriend?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”As new and weird as it was they were boyfriends now, in name at least.“Some boyfriend I am.He can’t fuck me.He can’t kiss me.He can’t even touch me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are too hard on yourself.”Dr. Mohammed admonished.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe there was some truth to that, but Mickey didn’t care.“Just being fucking realistic.” </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t just Ian he was avoiding either.He was staying away from everyone because he felt like a power keg.Any little spark would set him off. </p><p> </p><p>“You are afraid.”</p><p> </p><p>“You think?”Mickey snapped.He could admit he was scared.He was fucking terrified.He started picking at a loose thread on his jeans to try to control the shake in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed asked him that sometimes when they were in session, but it was usually when they were talking about the rape and Mickey was walking the knifes edge between talking through a memory and a panic attack.This wasn’t one of those times though.“At home.Where the fuck else would I be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you hear yourself?You are at <em>home</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”Mickey had not noticed he said that, but immediately understood the significance of it.It made him feel even more tense.</p><p> </p><p>“You have never said that to me before.You always say the house, Ian’s place, Mandy’s place.You have always carefully distanced yourself from claiming to have a home.You may feel you have stepped back, but I just heard a major step forward.”</p><p> </p><p>They had solidified the living together shit so yeah, Ian’s house was his home now.He wanted to keep it.“My Pops is gonna destroy it.”</p><p> </p><p>“He will try.”Dr. Mohammed agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“He destroys everything.”Resignation poured over him in a cold wave that made his skin break out in goose flesh.He rubbed at one of his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“And look at what you have built from the ashes.”</p><p> </p><p>They talked about how far he had come a lot.Mickey had cobbled together a life.It was good.Better than he could have hoped for, but it was like one of those Faberge egg things Mandy had shown him once when she was designing a wedding based on one.It was his treasure - fragile, unique and irreplaceable.“I can’t rebuild this.He takes this from me...it’s game over.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed sighed which Mickey took to mean he agreed.“Is your father a powerful man?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”Mickey asked, surprised his shrink wasn’t addressing the very real threat that Mickey could not, would not survive if he lost Ian, or the family they had created.He <em>needed</em> what he had now.</p><p> </p><p>“Is he a powerful man?”Dr. Mohammed repeated.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey replied, confused.His father had the power of life and death right now.Pretending he didn’t was stupid.</p><p> </p><p>“What in this situation makes him powerful? I am not asking about the power he had in the past.I am asking about right now, in this moment.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know where he is!”Mickey exclaimed because that seemed like the most important thing right now.</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”</p><p> </p><p>The response was far too bland for how Mickey was feeling.This was fucking <em>urgent</em>.He had to know where Terry was because if he didn’t Terry could sneak up on them.Yeah, Ian had a fucking tactical team out there protecting them, but Terry wasn’t without his own set of skills.He had survived for decades on the criminal underbelly of Chicago and he had only gotten meaner as he got older.“I don’t want him to do what he did to me to Ian.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed said nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“Or he’ll just outright kill him.”Mickey said because either way, if Terry got his hands on him Ian would die. </p><p> </p><p>“Anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey shrugged and went back to picking at the loose thread which had now turned into a small hole.That was more than enough in his opinion.</p><p> </p><p>The silence stretched out. </p><p> </p><p>“You said you do not know where he is.He will hurt Ian the way he hurt you.He will kill Ian.His power is your fear.”</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, Terry Milkovich had always ruled by fear.It was his best weapon.There was no revelation in saying it out loud.Mickey snorted, unimpressed.</p><p> </p><p>“He has cultivated that power all your life, but the tables have turned, Mickey.” </p><p> </p><p>“How do you figure?”Because all Mickey could see was risk.Everything that mattered to him was on the line.All of it.Terry was out there, somewhere, plotting.</p><p> </p><p>“You have found love.You have found family.You have claimed your independence.You have become your own man.I would argue those things are <em>your</em> power.”</p><p> </p><p>It sounded like a list of weaknesses to Mickey, all the things he had to lose, all the things he needed to protect but wasn’t sure he could.If just the thought of Terry could induce a panic attack, face to face...he wasn’t a match for his father.  Just the thought made his heart rate and breathing increase.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  He would panic and end up frozen in a corner somewhere while everything he cared about was destroyed.  </span>In his nightmares he was the one sitting in the windowsill watching, frozen and unable to move, while horrors were perpetrated against people he loved.</p><p> </p><p>“This life you have now, it empowers you.You have something worth fighting for.A purpose.Terry is diminishing, weakening.”Dr. Mohammed said sounding confident, like six months wasn’t an eternity when a violent sociopath with nothing left to lose was after you.“You are the phoenix rising.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted, grateful for to be jarred away from his thoughts by the irony.“Funny you should say that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“I got a huge phoenix tattoo all over the left half of my upper body. Hides a lot of scars.”</p><p> </p><p>“Serendipity.”</p><p> </p><p>There was that word again.“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“You are your own metaphor.”Dr. Mohammed said and then returned to the topic at hand. “You know better than anyone what your father is capable of, but in your current circumstances in that house surrounded by security, logistically what are your father’s options?What advantages does he have?”</p><p> </p><p>“The element of surprise.”Because Mickey didn’t know where the fuck he was.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know where he is.”Dr. Mohammed agreed.“What else?Can he outgun your guards?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably not.”Mickey admitted.Maybe if Terry got lucky he’d get a few shots in before the security guys took him down.Mickey had seen the damage a single bullet could do though.</p><p> </p><p>“Can he burn down the house?”</p><p> </p><p>The outside was stone.The windows were ballistic glass.The front door was wood, but it was covered by a steel storm door. There wasn’t anything immediately flammable outside the house and inside every floor had sprinklers and fire doors.It would take a natural disaster or a bomb to take out that house.“He might have met a bomb maker in prison.”</p><p> </p><p>“How likely is that?”</p><p> </p><p>In the years he had been in prison he had never met a bomb builder nor even heard of one being in lock up.“So I’m just being irrational, is that what you're saying?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fear is rarely rational, Mickey.It sounds to me that once you know where he is, you will feel much better.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”On that point they agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“How is Ian?”Dr. Mohammed changed the subject.</p><p> </p><p>“Weirdly calm.”Ian wasn’t manic.He wasn’t depressed either, at least not the bed bound version Mickey worried about.He was just super chill about the whole thing which was irritating in it’s own way.</p><p> </p><p>“Calm like a man who trusts the plan he developed to protect against a known threat?”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess.”Mickey rolled his eyes though it did make sense.Ian was also taking all of his crazy shit in stride.Nothing Mickey had said or done so far had unsettled the redhead.Not even when he proposed.“I asked him to marry me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Congratulations.”Dr. Mohammed responded not sounding surprised like Mickey thought he would.</p><p> </p><p>“It was a stupid thing to do.”Mickey groaned.He felt guilty for having raised Ian’s hopes when his motivations for asking were so shitty.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just want my Pops to see it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey sometimes hated that bland tone.In an effort to shock a reaction out of his doctor he admitted, “Ian called it a revenge wedding.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”The doctor said again.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a shitty reason, right?”Mickey asked because his shrink wasn’t responding how he thought he should.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to marry Ian?”Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Someday, yeah.”Someday when he could really give Ian everything the ginger idiot deserved.</p><p> </p><p>“So the issue is the timing.”The shrink surmised.</p><p> </p><p>In part.“Yeah.I can’t consummate it.Hell, he can’t even touch me right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think it will always be this way?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know.”Mickey answered.In Mexico it had seemed like a real possibility that wasn’t that far away anymore, but maybe that was just the magic of the Caribbean.“I mean, probably not with the touching thing.I’m just...having a moment, I guess.The sex thing though, I honestly don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>“You said ‘my boyfriend blew me’ at the start of this conversation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.He did, but that’s not the same thing.”It had been fantastic and he figured they were about to dissect why, but just like at group, he felt weird talking about what he liked.He felt like he was being judged for it and resented feeling like he had to defend himself.“You ever hate hearing all this gay shit?”</p><p> </p><p>“This is the first time since the rapid you have allowed him to do that, correct?”Dr. Mohammed asked, bypassing Mickey’s question.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is progress.”</p><p> </p><p>“He said he wants me to fuck him.”Mickey blurted and then grimaced.He had not meant to share that, or maybe he had.Part of him wanted to tease out the reason he wasn’t jumping on the opportunity but it was weird to talk to a straight man about where the gay dicks went. When it was about the rape somehow it was different.</p><p> </p><p>He heard the doctor swallow.The thought the other man might be repulsed pissed him off and he bristled.“You know, like my dick in his ass.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t get much gayer than ass fucking.”Mickey challenged.</p><p> </p><p>“How do you feel about it?” Dr. Mohammed asked, still sounding unbothered.</p><p> </p><p>“I dunno.It’s not like I’ve never topped before.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  I’ve done it a b</span>unch of times, but never with Ian.”Mickey admitted.He liked topping well enough.It was way better than masturbating and, depending on who gave it, better than a hummer, but it wasn’t the sex he preferred.</p><p> </p><p>“You are ambivalent about it.Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because a hole is a hole, I guess.Topping is cool and all, but...” He trailed off, not knowing what to say next.</p><p> </p><p>“But?”</p><p> </p><p>“You wouldn’t understand.”</p><p> </p><p>“Try me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.You’ll regret it, but okay.”Mickey took a deep breath and said, “I like how he fills me.I <em>let</em> him do that.I let him into my body.”</p><p> </p><p>“You <em>choose</em> to trust him.”Dr. Mohammed concluded.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”As much as he was able to trust anyone, he trusted Ian. </p><p> </p><p>“I see.”</p><p> </p><p>But it didn’t sound like he understood at all.Mickey wanted him to understand.“No matter what I do before to get ready, it still hurts a little at first.It burns going in and then it feels like way too much and he’s barely inside me.It takes a few strokes for the burn to stop and the fullness to feel good.It takes a few more for him to get all the way in because he’s longer than I am deep so he has to make it past the bend, but once he’s in there, fuck, doc.It’s the most amazing feeling.”</p><p> </p><p>“There is power in allowing him to connect with you in this way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey agreed.Sex had always been on Mickey’s terms, even when Ian was manic, it had never been demanded or forced.It was when he wanted it, how he wanted it.Ian had learned what every quiver, every jolt or grunt or groan meant and adjusted to it.Mickey could count on one hand the number of times Ian had cum before he did.</p><p> </p><p>“And now he wants to allow you to connect with him in the same way.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not the same though.Not even close.”Ian derived pleasure from giving pleasure.Mickey could do that when he bottomed, but when he topped, it wasn’t the same.If the other person got something out of it great, but he’d never really cared one way or the other.If he topped Ian, he wanted to make it great for him which he wasn’t sure he could do.Not just because he’d never really tried before, but also because he wasn’t equipped for it.“He’s got a monster cock, damn near 10 inches and beer bottle thick.I’m not kidding, the thing is massive.I’m just average.”</p><p> </p><p>“So your real fear about topping Ian is that you will disappoint him?” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m average for a guy my height.”Mickey admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Which means?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a little guy with a dick to match.”Mickey snarled, memories of his father and older brothers making fun of him bubbling to the surface.</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Mohammed was quiet for a moment, like he was trying to decide how to approach the topic, then he said, “The prostate is located approximately two inches inside the rectum.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes.A doctor knowing the anatomy didn’t mean he could understand the feeling. “Yeah, I know, but that’s just part of it.The other part is this overwhelming feeling of fullness. If you get both right at the same time, you can cum without ever touching your dick.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you don’t see.” Mickey disagreed.There was no way a straight man could possibly understand an orgasm that didn't involve his dick. </p><p> </p><p>“I see that we are having the most open discussion we have ever had about the sex you like.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”That caught Mickey off guard, but yeah.They talked this explicitly about the rape, but never about sex because until now he’d had a hard time disassociating the two. </p><p> </p><p>“Which is a huge step forward.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess.”Mickey replied, unsure how he felt about it.</p><p> </p><p>“Topping Ian would also be a consummation of your marriage, if you choose to move forward with a wedding.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess.”While technically true because it was sex, it wasn’t right somehow. “But, that’s not how we are.It’s not what either of us prefer.It’s a novelty, like something we do every once in a while or something.It’s not who we are.”</p><p> </p><p>“I sense there is more to it than just the novelty of it.Is there anything else you want to talk about?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey was quiet for a moment reflecting on the conversation they had had so far.He had aired a lot of laundry, but there was one more thing he couldn’t get out of his mind.“I want my dad to know I can still take Ian’s dick. That he didn’t ruin sex like he wanted.I know that’s all sorts of fucked up, but I need him to know before he kicks it that in spite of what he did, he couldn’t take that away from me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to film it and make him watch.I still sort of do even though I know that’s sick as fuck, but I do.Especially since he said I’d never be able to look at Ian again.I want him to know he failed.I beat him.”Mickey admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“A last act of defiance.”</p><p> </p><p>“I dream about tying him up to a chair and making him watch Ian fucking me on repeat until he dies.”Which was the unvarnished truth of the matter.Terry has witnessed horrors without blinking.Mickey wanted him to watch pleasure and be horrified.</p><p> </p><p>“Would watching you get married have the same effect?” Dr. Mohammed asked.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what Ian said too.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr.Mohammed sounded surprised when he asked, “You told him about this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not on purpose, but yeah.”Mickey had just sort of blurted it out in the middle of saying a whole lot of other shit he wished he hadn’t said.</p><p> </p><p>“What did he say?”</p><p> </p><p>“That we’re not gonna do that, but it’s okay to tell him I think about it.” </p><p> </p><p>“It is good for you to share your feelings with him.”Dr.Mohammed said, sounding proud. “Honesty and openness, especially about the hard things, are vital in a marriage.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think I’m ready to get married?”Mickey asked, the tiny hole in the knee of his jeans now a gaping one.He hadn’t noticed he had done it.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure anyone is ever truly ready, but if it is what you want, I am not opposed to it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’d tell me if you were?”Mickey asked, because he’d wait if his shrink told him too.In fact, he sort of wanted the excuse.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I would.”</p><p> </p><p>So there went that excuse.“Would you come if we do it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I would be happy to.”</p><p> </p><p>And suddenly Mickey had a vision of Dr. Mohammed walking him down the aisle because if anyone had the right to hand over his hard work to someone else, it was this man.Uncomfortably emotional, Mickey looked at his watch and was relieved to see, “Our time’s up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.Please call me when Terry has been located, will you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.Why?”There was something in the doctor’s voice that made him wonder.</p><p> </p><p>“I would like to know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.”Mickey agreed.It wasn’t like he wouldn’t want to call him the moment he found out anyway.“Thanks, doc.Bye.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey hung up.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So...my apologies for the delay.  </p><p>I’ve managed to work through quite a few of my issues with this section.  I’m still tweaking so there are lots of downstream changes which means posting will probably still continue to be slower than it was.</p><p>I hope all of you are staying safe.  I hope you’re getting vaccinated as soon as you’re eligible and even if you;re fully vaccinated you are still masking in public and avoiding crowded places.  I’m only going to places that are enforcing their own masking policies since our idiot governor decided to lift the mask mandate.</p><p>100,000,000 Americans have been vaccinated in 58 days.  Very soon everyone who wants to be will be vaccinated.  Soon the bulk of hospitalizations will be the idiot anti-mask/anti-vax crowd.  The timing could not be worse.  Compassion fatigue is a real thing that is effecting healthcare workers.  We’re tired. Many of us are angry.  </p><p>We’ll try.  We will, but unlike diabetes or high cholesterol where you are the only victim of your own choices, refusing a vaccine and/or a mask means your choice victimizes other people.  Sympathy for these people is on back order with no resupply in sight.  I fear for them and the healthcare workers who have to dig very, very deep to find the will to care for them.</p><p>COVID isn’t our only problem.  There is still a ton of work to be done regarding voting rights, the southern border (which was blown off as a non-issue until Biden took office), the minimum wage, the insurrection, and a host of other things.  </p><p>Frankly, I’m impressed by the progress of just 8 weeks even if there is a long way to go.  I have hope.</p><p>Anyway, thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Ignorance is not Bliss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey was feeling calmer.</p><p> </p><p>It had taken a second meeting with his shrink and a freezer full of bread to get there, but he felt better. </p><p> </p><p>He needed to call his friend from the farmers market so the bread could be delivered to the homeless shelter, but he didn’t want anyone coming to the house until they knew where Terry was and who was in his posse.</p><p> </p><p>It’d keep though.No need to think about that right now.He returned his attention to the dinner he was making. </p><p> </p><p>Svetlana had shopped like they would be trapped in the house for at least a month so he’d had a lot of options. </p><p> </p><p>He had a giant roast ready to go in the oven and was working on the sides which would be Brussels sprouts with apples and bacon, brown butter mashed potatoes and a spinach salad. </p><p> </p><p>It was good, purposeful work that kept his hands busy and his thoughts quiet.It was also a way of loving on his family that didn’t require being near them.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone was still avoiding him and he was fine with that.He was avoiding them too.</p><p> </p><p>He knew from Ian and Svetlana the kids had been told he had gotten some very bad news that upset him and he needed time to make peace with it.It was a very simplistic explanation for a complex situation, but they were just kids.It was enough for them, but it hurt to have them so far away from him.It hurt even worse when they looked at him from across a room with sympathy in their eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He wished he was strong enough to act like everything was okay the way he assumed other parents did, but the best he could do to protect them was to stay away from them as much as he could.He would never forget what he had done to Yevgeny at Christmas.</p><p> </p><p>That was another slippery slope if he let his thoughts linger.Shaking his head at himself, he looked out into the living room.Mandy and her boyfriend were playing Uno with Frannie, Yevgeny and Chelsey.Iggy was watching TV.Ian was still up in his office working on something with Svetlana.It all looked so normal, like a regular Sunday dinner, but it was Wednesday.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy wandered into the kitchen to refill her wine glass. </p><p> </p><p>“So that’s the kinda guy you go for these days, huh?”Mickey asked, feeling like he needed to re-engage somehow.Mandy was the easiest person to do that with since more than anyone, she had to understand how he felt.He gestured toward tall, slender man he had been mostly ignoring until now.“You check him out?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know me?”She replied with an eye roll.She filled her glass and then turned around and topped off his.It wasn’t necessary since he had barely sipped it so far, but she was stressed out too. </p><p> </p><p>“No red flags?”Mickey asked, feeling strange.It was only recently they learned to talk to each other this way.</p><p> </p><p>“No red flags.”She confirmed.Then she leaned in a little closer and said quietly, “Truthfully, he’s a little boring, but I figure I’ve had enough excitement for several lifetimes so maybe vanilla is what I need, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”Mickey agreed.Her previous taste in men was terrible and she had waited a long time before she started dating again.It was probably a good thing that the man she went for now was nothing like the men she dated in the past.Boring old Trey, Trent, or whatever his name was, was probably a good change of pace for her.“You meet any of his people yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve been dating for months, Mickey.Yes, I’ve met his friends and his family.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?How come we didn’t meet him?”He asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew exactly why.He still had a lot of history to live down.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I don’t know.” She said sarcastically.“Maybe because I figured you’d be an asshole and scare him off.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.I’m super intimidating standing here stirring.”Mickey groused, though he agreed.He had been an asshole to her previous boyfriends, but none of them had been worthy of her and he wasn’t sure this one was either.Beyond basic introductions they had not said a word to each other.</p><p> </p><p>He glanced down at the butter he was browning.It was very easy to burn if he didn’t pay attention.</p><p> </p><p>“Like you didn’t just finish showing off some serious knife skills.”Mandy snarked back at him.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.He was good with a knife. Even Chef Andres had said for someone with no formal training he made good cuts.So maybe he flourished a little bit when what’s his face had gotten himself a beer earlier, but so what?“How’s he holding up?He know about our family before now or did you just spring it on him?”</p><p> </p><p>“I told him, yeah, but it’s like...he nods and smiles, says all the right things, but he doesn’t get it, you know?He grew up in the burbs.” She sighed. “This is all really strange for him, almost like it’s unreal.”</p><p> </p><p>“Figures.I mean, this is a little insane.” </p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“What would a guy like that know about people like us anyway?”Mickey asked.It was something he thought about sometimes, if there was anyone out there who could understand him the way Ian did. </p><p> </p><p>He hated the idea of having to explain his life to someone who lacked the frame of reference necessary to understand what he had survived.The last thing he wanted was pity.Mandy wouldn’t want that either.“You tell him everything?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.He has my whole story.”She shrugged. “I figured if he was gonna run, I’d prefer he do it early before I got too invested.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’d he say?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not much.Just he was sorry and what did I need from him to feel safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“He see a shrink?”Mickey asked, because that last line had head shrinker written all over it.</p><p> </p><p>“No.His sister was roofied and raped in college.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if that didn’t do it, maybe this won’t either.”Mickey said with a shrug, wondering if she had really laid it all out there because this guy didn’t look like someone who would be cool with his girlfriend having been a call girl, but he wasn’t going to ask.It was none of his business.</p><p> </p><p>“God, I hope not.I really like him.” She said, and the look of worry on her face made Mickey feel bad for her.</p><p> </p><p>Her boyfriend walked in and got another beer.This time, rather than walk right back out, he came over and stood next to Mandy.“Mandy says you’re a forensic accountant.I work at Rampart Investment Management.I’m a Certified Financial Planner.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”Mickey grunted, deciding his butter was done and taking it off the heat.He knew from working at Wolfe, Pratt and Stevens this was how corporate people did small talk.They talked about work and the things they were able to buy like BMWs or rounds of golf or vacations to exotic places.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been working there for five years.Started right out of college.I just got certified last year.That’s really helped me grow my clientele.” Trent, Trey, Travis, Trevor, no not Trevor that was Ian’s old boyfriend, said and damn Mickey wished he could remember his name.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy was biting her lip and the look in her eyes was pleading.Mickey had never seen her look at him like that before.There were plenty of reasons for this guy to run.Mickey didn’t want to prove Mandy’s point and be one of them.He decided to attempt small talk.“I’m studying for the CPA exam then CFE and CFF.Certifications are a racket, you ask me, but people want to see them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, they do.”Trey or Trent agreed, sounding relieved to have found something in common.Then he stuck his foot in it by admitting, “Mandy says you’re the nut I have to crack if we’re going to have a future.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, you still want one?”Mickey asked, holding his hands out to encompass the insanity that was their lives right now.</p><p> </p><p>Mandy’s eyes widened in horror that quickly turned into a anger, but her boyfriend pulled her into a side hug while saying, “Of course I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”Mickey grunted, unimpressed.What else was the guy supposed to say when Mandy was standing right there.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m beginning to see her point.”Trent, Trey, fuck, what the hell was his name, said, trying to joke.</p><p> </p><p>“I did go to prison for attempted murder.”Mickey deadpanned, before immediately telling himself to lighten up.He wasn’t trying to run the guy off.He just wanted the man to have a healthy awareness of the consequences of hurting his sister.</p><p> </p><p>“And got exonerated.”Mandy reminded him while looking at her boyfriend, trying to gauge his reaction.</p><p> </p><p>“Because their case was shit, not because I didn’t do it.”Mickey said, not willing to let his sister castrate him like that, not when he wanted this man to know Mandy had backup. “You know who we are, who I am.Dick around with my sister’s feelings and I <em>will</em> fuck you up.Have no doubt I would gladly go back to prison for that bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy glared at him, before softening into something a little too gooey.She swallowed hard and rolled her eyes, looking a little misty.</p><p> </p><p>“Duly noted.”Trent, Mickey was pretty sure it was Trent, said with a shrug, but Mickey could see from his posture the taller man believed him.</p><p> </p><p>Silence descended for a long moment before Trent(?) cleared his throat and asked, “You, ah, need any help?”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had already finished the salad and made the dressing.He had cleaned the Brussels sprouts, but he still had potatoes that needed to be peeled and boiled, bacon to brown and apples to peal and dice.Pealing was not his favorite thing.It was also pretty hard to fuck up.</p><p> </p><p>Deciding it was time to put away the threats and make nice for Mandy’s sake, Mickey asked, “You cook?”</p><p> </p><p>“Have to.Mandy doesn’t.”Trent joked.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey smiled and it felt like his face was cracking it had been so long.“Watch out for that one in the kitchen.She can burn water.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ian sighed, waiting for Dr. Brynner to call him.They were meeting via Skype today.He would have preferred their usual Thursday office meeting, but that wasn’t an option right now. </p><p> </p><p>He had a lot he needed to talk through.</p><p> </p><p>She finally called and once her face was up on the TV on the wall Ian felt instantly better.She would help him figure out what to do.</p><p> </p><p>They went through the usual pleasantries before Ian started in on what he was most concerned about.“Mickey is super pissed at me. Actually, everyone is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“We found him yesterday.Terry is in New York.He looks like shit.”Ian said in a rush.“I did what we talked about.I handed over control of security to Ethan.” </p><p> </p><p>“You were going to give Svetlana control when we last talked.”</p><p> </p><p>That had been the plan, but then Ian got to thinking about her worries that Terry might try to take Yevgeny from her.She took no shit under normal circumstances.She was absolutely vicious when threatened.“I know, but with Yev she has skin in the game.Ethan doesn’t.He can be rational about this in a way the rest of us can’t.I trust him.”</p><p> </p><p>Dr. Brynner looked thoughtful for a moment before she nodded and said, “Good decision.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but now everyone is mad.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“I told them we found him.I figured they would feel better knowing we finally have eyes on him, but they want details.I don’t have any to give them.I told Jason, the security team lead, and Ethan not to give us specifics about where Terry is staying or who he’s with or whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would you do that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know it sounds nuts, but we’re Southsiders.In the past, we had to handle shit ourselves.No choice.Now, that instinct is still there, but the stakes are a lot higher.We have new lives and things to lose when before we didn’t.This is Terry’s last chance to destroy everything we built.We don’t need to help him do it, which we would if someone goes out on a half cocked revenge mission.I’m not going to take that chance.”Ian explained. </p><p> </p><p>“I see, but you are asking self reliant people who struggle with trust to hand over their security to strangers.”She said.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.It’s hard for me, too.”Ian groaned, but the person it was hardest on was Mickey.“Mickey is super pissed.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s terrified.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”He had never seen Mickey so afraid.“I know, but more than anyone he can’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because when he feels cornered he goes on offense.Like when Frank caught us fucking.Mickey freaked out that Frank would tell people and Terry would find out.He went on a rampage to kill Frank.Instead he got in a fight with the cops and was sent to juvie.That’s just one example.I have dozens of others.If he knows were Terry is he’ll be out in the streets armed like Rambo looking for a showdown.” </p><p> </p><p>“In this case, I doubt it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know him.”All she knew about Mickey had come from secondary sources like him and Dr. Mohammed.</p><p> </p><p>“Very well.” She shrugged leaving Ian with the distinct impression she disagreed with him.“We’ve talked about what Mickey might do.What would <em>you</em> do if you knew?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s another thing I worry about.” Ian admitted.He hated Terry with the fire of a thousand suns and he was thinking about him more than was healthy.He knew when he fixated on something it was a sign mania could be just around the corner.“If I have a manic episode right now...I can’t know.We both know what I’m capable of.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded and then asked, “So the rest of them can’t know either because they might tell you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I hadn’t thought about it like that.Maybe?”He had been thinking Mickey was the primary danger, but now he wasn’t so sure.Mickey had a panic attack just finding out Terry was out of prison.He was barely holding together.It was obvious, even to the kids.Ian thought of the other times Mickey had been set off in the past year.Each time, he reacted aggressively initially, but then the panic took over and he collapsed.Could Mickey actually face his father?Probably not.Which meant he was projecting.“Fuck, this is really all about me, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps.”</p><p> </p><p>“I upped my downer.”Ian told her, feeling defensive.</p><p> </p><p>She nodded, smiling gently.“I think that was a wise choice.How are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>“So far, so good.”It was a weird combination of feeling flat and wired at the same time. The flat feeling came from being over medicated, but unchecked, the wired feeling could become mania. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad to hear it.Are you keeping to your routine?”</p><p> </p><p>She was worried which made him more worried.“Basically.Have to run on the treadmill, but that’s really the only charge.I do my inventory every morning, too.” </p><p> </p><p>“Good.”She smiled at him. “Are you sleeping okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, pretty good.”Which was mostly true, but he worried because last night had been rough.After he told them about Terry Mickey had stormed off.He also slept on the fifth floor which until this conversation had been Ian’s excuse for sleeping so badly.Now he wasn’t so sure anymore.“I can’t afford to lose my shit right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ian.” She chided.“You are doing everything you can do.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighed.There really wasn’t anything else he could do and it still might not be enough.“I know.I’m controlling what I can and trying to mitigate what I can’t.” </p><p> </p><p>“You are making good decisions for yourself.”She said and Ian was grateful.He needed to hear that.</p><p> </p><p>“So, you said your security team found him.”She redirected the conversation away from his disorder.“You said he looks terrible.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“How do you know he looks terrible?”</p><p> </p><p>“I asked for photos and Ethan sent me a few.” Ian admitted.He didn’t want to know where Terry was or who he was with or what they were driving or anything like that, but he did want visual confirmation Terry looked as sick as he had been told he was.“He looks awful.” </p><p> </p><p>“May I see the photos?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.Texting them to you now.”Ian agreed, sending them to her.</p><p> </p><p>Ian heard her phone chirp a second later and she took a moment to examine them before she said, “He looks unwell.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, he looks terrible.  I’ve never seen him so skinny and I’ve known him half my life.”Ian agreed, looking at the last photo in the series of four.Terry had always seemed like a large man, imposing in bearing and demeanor.There was an aura of menace around him, like one wrong word would lead to a fight.It was a forgone conclusion Terry would win too.He had that kind of brutal confidence that intimidated on sight.</p><p> </p><p>The man in the photos looked less like a brute and more like a serial killer now.Ian remembered the coat he was wearing from years ago, but it hung on Terry’s gaunt frame now.He looked much older, his skin hanging off him, and he was pale.Super pale, like a vampire.</p><p> </p><p>It was hard to believe it was the same man, but it was Terry. </p><p> </p><p>His thoughts were cut off when Dr. Brynner said, “Send them to Mickey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Won’t this just upset him more?”Ian asked.Mickey was so on edge.Who knew what seeing Terry would do to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Were you relieved when you saw them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kinda.”Ian admitted.The photos confirmed for him that Terry really was sick, but that had not made him feel much better.“I mean, he looks really bad, but I feel like that just makes him more dangerous. He has nothing to lose at this point.”</p><p> </p><p>“He is clearly very sick.”She said, looking at her phone again.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, he was sick, but Dr. Brynner didn’t understand Southsiders.They were born survivors, pushing through adversity because they had no choice.In the event of nuclear winter, the only things left would be cockroaches and Southsiders.It reminded him of the biggest cockroach of all.“That doesn’t mean much.Remember Frank?”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded with an ironic smile.He thought he had her there, but then she pointed out the biggest difference between the two men.“Frank was conniving.He didn’t need to be physically strong to do damage.Terry is all brute force, or at least he was.”</p><p> </p><p>True enough.Terry didn’t look like he’d be winning any fights these days, but he had never relied solely on his fists.“As long as he can still pull a trigger, he’s dangerous.”</p><p> </p><p>“That may be so, but if you haven’t already, send the photos to your family.Let them see him and form their own conclusions.” </p><p> </p><p>“Fine.”Ian relented. “I will.I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>She skewered him with a look and then changed the subject.“How was the vacation?”</p><p> </p><p>It felt like a lifetime ago.</p><p> </p><p>“It was awesome until Terry fucked it up.”Which Ian realized was why she had changed the subject.What happened in Mexico had been organic, healthy.She always liked to end their sessions on a positive note.</p><p> </p><p>“Awesome how?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re boyfriends now...or at least...no, we named our relationship.We’re boyfriends.Possibly engaged, I’m not sure.We went on dates.We were able to make out.He slept naked one night.I sucked him off in the shower.He even went out in public without a shirt on the last day.”It had been such a major leap forward.“We talked about how we wanted things to progress too.He said he needed me to stop anticipating when to stop and wait for him to use our safe word.Said he needed time to work through what he was feeling in the moment and decide if he wanted to continue or not.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded.They had talked a lot about what he hoped for and what Mickey likely hoped for prior to the trip.He had not wanted Mickey to feel pressured or like he had to do things he wasn’t ready for, but he had hoped the trip would bring them closer, which it had.Until Terry fucked it up.</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously all that’s on hold right now.” Ian said. It made him so angry watching Mickey work so hard to overcome what had been done to him and then just hearing Terry was out sent him reeling.Once Terry was dead and out of the way, they would make up the ground they had lost, but it hurt watching Mickey struggling so hard.</p><p> </p><p>“Possibly engaged?” </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe.He asked me to marry him when we got home.”Ian admitted as if marrying Mickey was something shameful instead of his ultimate goal.</p><p> </p><p>She frowned.“After you learned Terry is free.Was he serious?”</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, I don’t know.He was really concerned about consummation the last time we talked about it.” </p><p> </p><p>“So consummation is no longer important?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s still important.”Ian said.He knew being able to resume their sex life was something Mickey was very focused on.However, now that Terry was out, the focus had changed. “But now I think he’s more worried about making sure Terry knows he failed.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.” </p><p> </p><p>“I mean, I get it.He wants Terry to know everything he did, none of it made a difference.Mickey is still gay.We still love each other.Short of watching us bang, watching us get married is the best fuck you I can think of.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe not the best reason to get married though.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”Ian agreed.“I absolutely want to spend the rest of my life with him, but I’m not sure now is the right time.At the same time, I don’t think I can say no either.He’d take it like I’m abandoning him again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Damned if you do.Damned if you don’t.”She nodded, agreeing with him. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey was already dealing with one of his greatest fears.Ian couldn’t add the other one onto the pile even if he did think the timing was terrible.“That’s how it feels.”</p><p> </p><p>“You need to tread very lightly here.Let him lead.If he is serious about it and it’s what you want also, pursue it.If he doesn’t bring it up again, let sleeping dogs lie.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this is so late.  I was called in at the hospital today and it just messed up my day.</p><p>Also, I know most places have lifted their COVID restrictions (idiots) but that does not mean we get to start shooting up grocery stores, assaulting the capital or pulling truly pervy pedo shit (like congressman Matt Gaetz).  Rein it in people.  Please.</p><p>Hope everyone is doing well.  Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Challenge Accepted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the next day and Ian was already tired of letting sleeping dogs lie. </p><p> </p><p>He had thought sending Mickey the photos of Terry would reopen the lines of communication, but Mickey kept avoiding him and had spent a second night on the fifth floor.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Finally, Ian gave up trying to catch him and decided instead to corner him.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey had been given permission to work from home and was in his office when Ian barged in and stood in the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>“Get out.”Mickey muttered, not looking up.Ian was the only person Mildred allowed to enter the office without an invitation from Mickey so there was no element of surprise to his arrival.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you get the photos?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty sure it says ‘read’ under the fucking text, man.Get out.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Yeah, iPhones did that.So the premise for coming in was a fail, but Ian wasn’t ready to give up yet.“He looks pretty awful, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I said get the fuck out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, okay.But one more thing,” Ian paused because he could hear Dr. Brynner’s voice in the back of his mind yelling at him not to say, “About the wedding, do you still want to fast track it?”</p><p> </p><p>That got Mickey’s attention.He looked up at Ian with his eyebrows almost up to his hairline.Then the look of surprise was replaced with scorn.“Fuck you is what I want.”</p><p> </p><p>The ice was broken though because Mickey had looked at him.Maybe they could actually talk now.“Mickey.I know you’re angry, but literal ex-special forces guys are watching Terry.There is nothing we could do that they can’t.” </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, fuck me for wanting you to be safe.”Ian agreed, knowing he was poking a bear. </p><p> </p><p>“Safe?You think I’m <em>safe</em>?”Mickey shouted, slamming his fists into the desktop as he stood up.“I knew you were naive, but damn.I am not safe.You aren’t.<em>None</em> of us are fucking safe!”</p><p> </p><p>“Remember when you were trying to talk me out of all the headlines I was imaging when Frank was being a shit?This is basically the same thing.More violent, but the same damn thing.”Ian shouted back.</p><p> </p><p>Mikey came around the desk, murder in his eyes.“You didn’t have a pipe shoved so far up your ass you could fucking chew on it!”</p><p> </p><p>Ian flinched.God, Mickey had said that before, but it still hurt. The man who did that to him was free and in New York.All the fire went out of him.“I love you.I want to keep you as far away from the person who hurt you as I can.I won’t be sorry for that.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey also deflated, subconsciously rubbing at his side.“I have to know where he is.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s in Queens.That’s all I know.” Ian replied, offering a small olive branch hoping a general location was enough.He didn’t have anything else to offer.Talking to Dr. Brynner had helped him understand the real reason for the lack of information and though he wasn’t looking for sympathy points, it was the truth.“I thought it was about you at first, but it’s not.I’m thinking about him way too much and I’m trying to hold it together, but I’m really worried I won’t be able to.I go to sleep dreaming about all the ways I could murder him and I’m legit afraid of what I could do if I lose my shit.”</p><p> </p><p>The look on Mickey’s face changed to one of concern.“Are you doing your inventory?”</p><p> </p><p>“I absolutely am.I also upped my downer, which if I do it early enough can sometimes keep me from having an episode.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey frowned.“You sleeping okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Last couple nights were kinda rough, but I’m okay.”Ian said, hoping Mickey wouldn’t think he said that to manipulate him back into sharing a bed.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey’s eyes skimmed over him, assessing.Then he sighed.“Look, it makes sense, what you’re saying.I get this is another one of your guardrails, but you’re asking me to trust fucking strangers to have my back.I don’t know them.They’re special forces guys, fine, but I...I can’t.Not again.”</p><p> </p><p>He had that same haunted look he’d had nearly a year ago and it was killing Ian not to pull him into his arms to comfort him, but Mickey was wearing his don’t touch me look. Clasping his hands behind his back, Ian said,“Never again.I promise.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey ran a hand down his face, slumping against his desk.“I just...it has to stop, man.One way or the other, it’s gotta stop.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian did not like that one way or the other comment.“It will stop.I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t promise that.” </p><p> </p><p>“The whole point of security like this is they’ll take a bullet for you.Or, if we get lucky he’ll give them a justifiable reason to take him out.I’ll hire someone to kill him.Whatever it takes.”</p><p> </p><p>“No you fucking won’t.I won’t let you.”Mickey looked up at him and the resignation Ian saw in his eyes, fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Ian understood the helplessness even if it did stab him with fear.He knew what it felt like to honestly believe the people he loved would be better off without him.He knew what hopelessness felt like and how the weight of it was spirit crushing.He knew the decision to finally end it felt like shrugging off the weight of the world, almost euphoric. </p><p> </p><p>But then, after, the remorse, the disappointment, the fear that all he had accomplished was to make everything worse, and then seeing all of those feelings reflected back at him by his family, was almost enough to make him want to try again. </p><p> </p><p>After, he thought a lot about Monica’s attempt and how even though she had lived on the fringes of his life the thought of losing her had terrified and shamed him as if her misery had somehow been his fault, but he had forgotten all of that and followed in Monica’s footsteps, succeeding only in doubling those same fears for his family. </p><p> </p><p>The amount of work Mickey was putting in every day to take back his life was exhausting.Mickey was tired.He was scared.He needed to recharge, but circumstances kept sucking the life out of him.</p><p> </p><p>It was suddenly crystal clear that rather than the Rambo-esque showdown Ian had been imagining, this was the sort of mood Ian could see Mickey deciding to sacrifice himself on the altar of his father’s rage to spare the rest of them.It was suicidal, but somehow different, like a soldier distracting the enemy so his platoon could escape.</p><p> </p><p>Circumstances left Ian with nothing but the inadequacy of words to communicate how deeply he admired the the sentiment and how ferociously opposed to it he was.“I cannot live without you, so don’t go thinking you can save me by killing yourself.I’ll be right behind you.Believe that.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey ran a hand through his hair and stared at the floor.“Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled, more in love with his brave little thug than he thought possible.Mickey needed something else to think about.He needed something he could sink his energy into that would lift his spirit.“So, I’d rather focus on the future.I’d rather think about our wedding.” </p><p> </p><p>Mickey started biting one of his already stubby fingernails. </p><p> </p><p>“I love you.I want to spend the rest of my life with you.I want our wedding to have nothing but the best, first class all the way.I want it to be huge and beautiful and joyful and gay as fuck.I want your shit bag father to see your friends and family support you.I want him to see your colleagues standing up for you.I want him to see that nothing he did stopped you from being who you are and being loved for it.I want him to look at you now and know it only gets better from here.You can be who you want, love who you want, do what you want and he can’t fucking stop you.You are finally, finally <em>free</em> and I want him to breathe in that freedom like fucking napalm.”</p><p> </p><p>Mickey snorted.“Those your vows?”</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled, pleased to have broken the melancholy.“Could be.You like ‘em?”</p><p> </p><p>“Those’ll work.Yeah.”Mickey chuckled, then the mirth faded again. “I’d just sleep easier if I knew where the fuck he is.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll watch over you.”Ian promised.</p><p> </p><p>“With what?”Mickey scoffed.“You crap out at midnight and you don’t even own a gun.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian rolled his eyes.“No.But you installed a gun safe in the sub basement so I’m pretty sure there’s an arsenal down there.I’m a better shot than you anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“The fuck you are.”Mickey disagreed, looking defiant for having been caught with a hidden gun safe.He would not apologize. </p><p> </p><p>Ian would not ask him to.</p><p> </p><p>“I have an Expert Rifle Qualification badge from JROTC.”Ian reminded him.He had always been proud of that designation.At one point he had wanted to be a sniper, but that was a long time ago.Now he was a guy with a mental illness who wasn’t supposed to even have guns and who didn’t really feel like he needed them either.Shooting was fun though.</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever. That was almost ten years ago.”Mickey said with a snort.</p><p> </p><p>Ian smiled.“When we get out of here, I challenge you to a duel at the gun range.”</p><p> </p><p>“Challenge accepted, bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks everyone for continuing to read.  I appreciate each and every one of you. ❤️</p>
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<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Till Death Do Us Part</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>******TRIGGER WARNING******</p><p>This chapter contains a racist, bigoted, ABUSER’S MEMORIES of VIOLENCE and RAPE.  I am super conflicted about posting this, but I just can’t make what comes later work without it.</p><p>Read at your own risk.  </p><p>Like other ugly chapters, there is a summary at the end that you can skip to so you can keep up without having to read this.</p>
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    <p>Terry’s Milkovich was sitting in an old Buick he borrowed off one of his brothers waiting for another glimpse of his runaway kids.The last couple days they had stayed cooped up inside but they’d have to come out sometime.</p><p> </p><p>Stakeouts were boring, lonely affairs where the temptation to let his thoughts drift and possibly slide into sleep were ever present.</p><p> </p><p>He had a small crew with him.Let them pay attention. </p><p> </p><p>He was out of prison, which was good.The reason for it sucked.He was dying. He’d known it for a while, but it seemed more real now than it had when they gave him the news. </p><p> </p><p>There was some pain, but nothing he couldn’t deal with.He got winded on a single flight of stairs and he was the thinnest he’d been since high school.</p><p> </p><p>The way the guys look at him, his days as the man in charge were numbered. </p><p> </p><p>They knew him well enough to know he could be absolutely vicious, especially when cornered.The fear wouldn’t last because he was getting weaker, but maybe it would hold long enough for him to get whatever he was here to do done.</p><p> </p><p>Death was a fucking hell of a thing.It changed a man’s perspective.It had him thinking about what he would be leaving behind.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t much.The Trumbull house was gone, his family was splintered, everything they had worked for was basically gone. </p><p> </p><p>It felt like a failure even if it had been set in motion by the generation before him. </p><p> </p><p>His grandfather, the family’s founder, had been tough as they come.He had immigrated to the US from Ukraine with no English and nothing but the clothes on his back.He had struggled, but eventually learned the language and accumulated enough wealth to build the house on Trumbull around which the Milkovich world had revolved for three generations. </p><p> </p><p>It was lost now, Terry’s good for nothing children having abandoned it.Some yuppie bullshit was being erected over the remains of his family’s legacy and as much as that pissed him off, he didn’t really care. He was dying. Fuck it.</p><p> </p><p>His grandfather would murder him if he knew though. </p><p> </p><p>Terry had been awestruck by him as a child.Dido, as he was known, had been built like a linebacker, tall, thick and powerful.He rarely spoke, but when he did people listened.It was even rarer for him to use his fists, but just the rumors of what those fists could do kept the family in line and the neighborhood in check.</p><p> </p><p>When Terry had been young and Dido was patriarch, the Milkoviches were a family on the rise.Dido had valued education and hard work because he had never had the former but excelled at the latter.He was a builder and Terry sometimes thought if he’d just lived a few years longer, things would have been very different for the Milkovich clan as a whole.</p><p> </p><p>Dido had sired five sons and two daughters, all of whom were equally prolific breeders, laying the foundation for a vast family network that spread outward from the Trumbull house like a spider’s web into other communities. </p><p> </p><p>Terry remembered going to school with his many siblings and cousins.Sheer numbers meant the Milkoviches ruled the school, but it had been different back then.They competed among each other to get better grades or excel more at sports because Dido liked winners.</p><p> </p><p>He had been in the sixth grade when Dido died in his sleep, stroke or heart attack, no one knew which.</p><p> </p><p>Everything immediately changed. </p><p> </p><p>Dido had been very traditional and so was the family he raised.As the oldest, after Dido died Terry’s father assumed the mantle of the head of the family. </p><p> </p><p>His father was nothing like Dido though, something Dido had reminded his eldest son of all the time.Dido called him rozcheruvannya, his disappointment. </p><p> </p><p>Terry’s dad had been a decent athlete but an awful student who dropped out in tenth grade.He couldn’t hold a job, but had no trouble supporting himself with petty crime that eventually turned him into a low level thug in the Russian mafia running guns, drugs, and whores.</p><p> </p><p>Terry had grown up afraid of his father.The rest of the family had been too.He was dumb, cruel, and dictatorial.It was his way or the highway.</p><p> </p><p>Some wriggled out from under his father’s thumb and managed to continue the upward trajectory Dido had started.They moved up and out of the Southside and wanted nothing to do with the crumbling, impoverished, undisciplined mess of Milkoviches Terry eventually inherited.</p><p> </p><p>In hindsight, Terry could acknowledge he was just as bad a leader as his father had been.He liked to think he wasn’t as brutal or as dumb, but nothing got better when he was in charge.He had also been left with far less to work with than the generation prior, but he had still failed to lead his family to solvency, much less wealth.</p><p> </p><p>He had an eighth grade education, a ‘wife’ at 17, his first kid at 18, and had been in and out of juvie, jail, and prison so many times he had lost count.He had six kids he acknowledged, more that he didn’t, and most of them were worthless.</p><p> </p><p>His youngest son was the only one of his progeny who had the potential to be like Dido had been, but that little fucker was a cock sucking homo in spite of Terry’s repeated efforts to fix him. </p><p> </p><p>Terry had failed at many things in his life but Mickey was the one that got him the most.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t have a lot of time left, so as soon as he was released Terry had gathered up a few guys and headed for New York to find his wayward son and his traitor siblings.It wasn’t hard to figure out where they would be since the center of their little universe was the redheaded fudge packer who had ruined everything. </p><p> </p><p>Somehow that worthless piece of shit had made himself rich.He was living in a historic mansion on the upper east side of Manhattan.It had been photographed for <em>Home &amp; Gardens</em> and a couple other magazines.He’d even bragged about it on that episode of <em>Ellen</em> where he’d ratted out his entire family on national TV.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t hard to find the address for the Bates-Kirkland House.</p><p> </p><p>They’d driven straight to it, getting there Sunday morning. </p><p> </p><p>Mandy was the first of his children he saw that day.She was with a tall, lanky guy of indeterminent race who had zero situational awareness.They had gotten out of a black SVU and run into the house like their tails were on fire.</p><p> </p><p>It had been years since he’d seen Mandy.One of his boys had looked her up on his phone while they were driving in from Chicago.She had a lot of social media. So he knew during the time he had been locked up she had finished high school, graduated from NYU and started working as an event planner which, judging by the photos, she was good at.</p><p> </p><p>She didn't look like his kid anymore.She looked like some society girl who had it all.She didn’t carry his name anymore either, changing it to her junkie mother’s name like that was better.Ooh, that pissed him off, but in the time he had left there was fuck all he could do about it. </p><p> </p><p>Even Iggy, the most useless of his crotch fruit, appeared to have moved up in the world. </p><p> </p><p>He had shown up at the mansion not long after Mandy and her boyfriend.He was clean and had a decent haircut.His clothes fit and he was holding his head up like he had something to be proud of.There was a petit little slant eyed girl on his arm.</p><p> </p><p>They disappeared inside and Terry and his boys had had to wait three more hours before there was more movement at the house.</p><p> </p><p>Terry didn’t do complicated emotions, but fuck his fucking cancer, he was left with a lot of them now. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had been everything he wanted in a son other than being a short little fucker.He was smart, resourceful, fast on his feet and had a natural leadership quality Terry had always believed he would grow into. </p><p> </p><p>He’d had plans for that kid, figuring they were far enough from the old world that the most worthy son would be the one who inherited control rather than simply the oldest.Besides,Mickey had seemed likely to naturally take control anyway since his elder brothers and cousins had deferred to his judgment since they were kids.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Mickey would reverse the downward spiral of the Milkovich family.</p><p> </p><p>Then Mickey turned out to be a fag.</p><p> </p><p>Terry couldn’t understand it.Even now, in the clarifying light of impending death, he couldn’t understand it.It was disgusting, immoral, unnatural, weak.So fucking <em>weak</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Prison gay was a thing, but it wasn’t real.It was just a means to an end in a very specific set of circumstances that stopped the nanosecond the prison doors opened.The first thing he did every time was go find a prostitute to reassert his manhood.</p><p> </p><p>There was a hierarchy to prison gay too.The guys who took it in the ass were pussies, the pretty, soft, young ones too weak to defend themselves.They quickly became broken, pathetic cum dumps, abused until they were used up, worthless, living glory holes waiting for murder or the courage to suicide, whichever came first.</p><p> </p><p>And then he walked in on his son, his future, naked with a boy and he...he couldn’t let his son become one of those broken <em>things</em> he knew from prison.He’d had no choice but do something. </p><p> </p><p>In hindsight, he should have killed the ginger fucker then.He still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t, but at the time it had seemed like an unnecessary risk.He had no idea if anyone had seen the redhead enter the house, but he knew with certainty the kid would be missed.Gallaghers were even more tight knit than Milkoviches.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, he’d scared both of them shitless, and Mickey swore it was an experiment gone wrong and had returned to his senses. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey got the Russian bitch pregnant and married her, sealing the deal on a normal life.He had seemed to be back on track before Terry got sent up again and could no longer keep close tabs on him.</p><p> </p><p>By the time he got out, just in time for his grandson’s christening, something had changed.In front of god and everyone Mickey told the whole world he was a faggot and then doubled down by shamelessly announcing he was the bottom bitch and that he liked it.</p><p> </p><p>It was anathema, an affront, an abomination.It was the deliberate murder of everything Terry had dreamed of.</p><p> </p><p>That bar fight had been the last moment he had with his son until he schemed his way onto Mickey’s cell block.His rage at Mickey’s defiance and defilement had only grown in the intervening years as the family kept him aware of what Mickey was up to.All of it was infuriating.</p><p> </p><p>When he got on Mickey’s cell block that rage boiled over. </p><p> </p><p>Up until then, no one messed with Mickey because the kid had a name and the reputation to back it up.There were rumors on the block that Mickey was a pillow biter, but they were quiet whispers until Terry got there.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was the humiliation of people knowing his son was a faggot or the loss of the future he had counted on or the rejection of everything he believed in, maybe all of the above, but he unleashed hell on his former favorite son and Mickey, resilient little fucker that he was, took it.</p><p> </p><p>The first time he sent his guys after Mickey they stabbed him in the back almost killing him.He had been pissed, but Mickey pulled through and kept his head down, minding his business.</p><p> </p><p>The gloves had come off though, the rest of the cell block aware the kid no longer had protection from the Milkoviches.</p><p> </p><p>There were a few minor incidents, some fights, but Mickey held his own.He was a tough little fucker and the ante was upped each time Mickey refused to take a knee, clearly diminished after each encounter, but still unyielding.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow forcing Mickey’s submission became the single most important thing in Terry’s life.</p><p> </p><p>There were two more major assaults that landed the kid in the hospital and each time Terry was caught in a weird sort of limbo wanting Mickey to just fucking die already, while also hoping the little fucker would make it. </p><p> </p><p>He’d tell himself this time was the last time, but it never was.Mickey would not give in, not until...</p><p> </p><p>That.</p><p> </p><p>In hindsight and with the clarity his prognosis was forcing upon him, that last act was something he regretted.</p><p> </p><p>In the past regret had been a momentary flash, a brief wish he’d not done what he did, but this was a lingering, cruel doubt that was eating away at him with the same ferocity as the cancer destroying his body.</p><p> </p><p>The nightmares had started the day he heard Mickey had survived the final attack and was fighting for his life in the hospital.What sort of life would that be, he had wondered.Could there be a life after something like that? </p><p> </p><p>He’d seen more than a few gang rapes in his day and a lot of subsequent suicides and he had wondered what Mickey would do.He told himself the only things he would accept were submission or death, but he had also worried and he hated himself for it. </p><p> </p><p>When he’d heard Mickey was finally back at the prison in the medical ward he sent people to go look at him just like he had done every other time.They reported back that Mickey was seriously fucked up, but still fighting.</p><p> </p><p>There was a twisted sort of pride he derived from that fighting spirit, like it was something in Mickey’s blood, something passed down from generations prior.He was conflicted by admiration and loathing for his son.</p><p> </p><p>He had not personally laid eyes on Mickey since that fateful day.</p><p> </p><p>They’d been staking out the house for several days now and he still hadn’t see him, but Mickey was in the house. He was convinced of it. </p><p> </p><p>Late Sunday he had seen the redheaded mother fucker moved from a black SUV into the house surrounded by a scrum of men in black suits.He was certain Mickey had been with him even if he didn’t see him.</p><p> </p><p>Then there was a grinding sound and the lower floor and basement had steel storm shutters close over all the windows and doors. </p><p> </p><p>On the one hand he was flattered by all the security, but it was another complication he now had to work around. </p><p> </p><p>He could not see inside.He had no idea what was going on in there.All he knew was that no one who had been staking out the house had seen anyone come in or out since Sunday.</p><p> </p><p>He needed to end this. </p><p> </p><p>He just wasn't sure if it ended in bloodshed and death or if it was something else.Not forgiveness.He’d never ask for it nor could he expect to get it.He had gone way too far for that.</p><p> </p><p>God, it haunted him though.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, if he just saw him.Just laid eyes on him...and what, knew he was okay?How could he be okay when he was still carrying on with that fudge packing queer?</p><p> </p><p>That in itself was just crazy and he wondered how it worked between them now. </p><p> </p><p>He’d seen men raped in prison and it fucking broke them.That’s why he’d gone that route in the end.For Mickey to take back up with the redheaded menace, how was that possible unless maybe liking butt sex made being raped not so bad?</p><p> </p><p>He hated thinking about that day, but found it harder and harder not to lately. </p><p> </p><p>It had been a lesson, an extreme form of conversion therapy.That’s what he told himself.</p><p> </p><p>He helped beat Mickey into submission, but then he had to put some distance between himself and what was happening.Hearing it was bad enough.It was hard, but that was the point.It was a <em>lesson</em>.Mickey needed to <em>learn</em>. </p><p> </p><p>The last guy though proved what a failure the whole things was.Mickey’s body had responded to him in a way that had completely disgusted Terry and proved that even gang rape wasn’t enough to fix his son. </p><p> </p><p>Mickey had been in and out of consciousness by that point so it was probably just biology, but still.Fuck. </p><p> </p><p>He’d overheard a conversation once that had stuck with him, some old faggot trying to console a newb who’d just taken his first dick.He’d said he was straight too, but sometimes that didn’t matter.Hating it didn’t matter.Sometimes his body betrayed him and that was what fucked with him more than anything.Terry could not understand how that worked.Apparently neither could the newb because he had committed suicide a few days later. </p><p> </p><p>Terry didn’t want to think about it, just the memory making him sick to his stomach, but after six men, on the seventh Mickey sprung wood?The response of the others, the way they mocked Mickey (and him by extension) and the fact that in spite of the mortal sin he had just committed against his own son, Mickey was still a fucking queer...he’d lost control and the pipe, well, he regretted that.</p><p> </p><p>Mickey survived.Barely. </p><p> </p><p>And now he was back in the arms of the boy who had ruined everything.</p><p> </p><p>Terry hated the redhead.Hated him like nothing else in life.</p><p> </p><p>Ian fucking Gallagher had robbed him of his son, his legacy.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, fuck forgiveness.There would be blood alright, but it wouldn't be Mickey’s.</p><p> </p><p>Let the redheaded asshole think he was safe because he had a fancy house and some Blackwater style security, but that wouldn’t matter much. </p><p> </p><p>Terry didn’t care if they killed him.He was dying anyway.A bullet was better than rotting.</p><p> </p><p>Whatever it took, Ian Gallagher was gonna die.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not gonna lie, I did not enjoy trying to get into Terry’s head, but I have often wondered what motivates men like him to do what they do.  Why did my rapist do what he did?  What was his backstory that made him who he was?  What was Terry’s?  We’re not getting into the existential question about being born evil, but for later chapters to work, some insight into Terry’s motivations is needed.</p><p>This chapter feels like vomiting up something disgusting and serving it up as a meal, but this is the corner I wrote myself into.  He has to have a POV for later parts to work.</p><p>Feedback would be helpful because at this point I’m open to suggestions about how to handle Terry better.</p><p>Anyway, for those of you who took my advise and skipped down here for the SUMMARY and not my rationalizations, here you go.</p><p>SUMMARY:<br/>Terry is in New York staking out the house.  He reminisces about his family’s past.  He thinks about his early hopes for Mickey and his disappointments because this is something people do when they know they’re dying.  They also try to tie up loose ends.</p><p>He sees Mandy and Iggy and as the racist responses one would expect him to have to their significant others.  </p><p>He thinks about what he did to Mickey and wonders how it’s possible for Mickey to pick back up with Ian after all the lessons he tried to teach him.  </p><p>He has some regret about what he did to his son, but mostly he regrets not taking care of Ian the first time and vows to take care of him now, even if he dies in the trying.</p><p>Thank you for reading.</p>
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